


The Poisoner's Daughter

by SoulfulyWicked



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Can be read as OC, Casual Murder, Dubious Consent, F/M, Girl Gang, POV Third Person, Poisoning, Sassy Zsasz, Slow Burn, Undercover as a Couple, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 65,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulfulyWicked/pseuds/SoulfulyWicked
Summary: She lays her head down at his feet, tears brimming to the surface. She's begging now, all traces of pride erased."Please...don't kill him."Victor stares at her, crossing one leg over the other. This was so very...interesting."What do I get in return for that, doll?"She bit her lip."Me."





	1. Chapter 1

She stayed in the closet for hours now. The poison still burned and made her sweat but she had yet to throw up or seize. She considered it a success, actually. Perhaps she won't have to call in sick tomorrow at work anymore. Her father might even give her a break for the rest of the night. The poison had done its job, incapacitating her for hours, in pain, without actually getting close to killing her.

She knocks on the door timidly. A second passes and then another. No reply comes. 

She furrows her brow nervously, licking her lips, tasting sweat and blood.

Tentatively, she slowly opens the door, freezing as the front door creaks open. She closes the door just enough to peak out of and watches as a man slithers in. He's bald, and she sees the glint of guns in his hands. He spares no glance at her, in the closet, because why would he? She's as quiet as a mouse as he steps past her carefully.

From her spot, she can't see what he's doing in the kitchen. She entertains the thought of calling the police but this is Gotham and she lives deep in the Narrows. The man would kill her before she can even get past “hold please."

She presses closer, to see better, but then the door swings open and she falls to the ground with a loud thud. Faster than she can blink there is a gun in her face.

 

“Where is the old man.” It should have been a question but looking at the man she realizes he didn't ask, he demanded.

 

“Who?” Face burning, she feels like an idiot, but she has to know who he's looking for so she can get him the hell out of here.

 

He shoves a picture in her face and her heart stops pounding for a minute.

 

He's looking for her father.

 

“He was supposed to be here. He put me in there, said he’d be back in a couple of hours.”

 

The man huffs and holsters his guns.

 

“I’ll be back later then.” He starts for the door but pauses and throws a look at her over his shoulder. “Do yourself a favor, Doll, when I come back...be asleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sure enough, hours later after she sent her brother to the neighbor’s she hears the front door open. She hears her father protesting, calling for her, but she remains firmly in bed. She's terrified of her father, but she's more scared of that man. She flinches as a shot rings out and the obvious fall of her father’s body. The door opens again and then he's gone.

 

Tears slowly drip down her face as she agonizes over staying in bed until morning or dealing with the mess in the living room. Then she thinks of her younger brother coming home in the morning for breakfast and seeing the body of their father, who, for whatever reason, he idolizes.

 

She pulls herself out of bed, grab the phone and dialing the number for the GCPD, hands shaking.

 

“Hello, GCPD speaking, what is your emergency.”

 

“My father has been shot.”

 

Half an hour later she sits in her living room with a blanket pulled tight over her shoulders. She prays that her brother, ever the heavy sleeper didn't come to investigate why their little apartment was being invaded like this. She didn't leave her room till a police officer in blue had fetched her. She hadn't been able to bear seeing the body, lying in a pool of blood. A pool of blood she can still see clearly from where she is sitting on the ratty old couch they owned.

 

He had been sitting at his desk, she notes, uncharacteristically calm.

 

A man steps into her line of vision, this one not wearing any blue.

 

“Ma’m, I need you tell me exactly what happened here. And don't try to lie, I know the code of the Narrows.”

 

She sighs, sipping the cup of coffee one of the blue suits had been nice enough to bring her. “I’m not going to lie. I was in my bed, heard the front door open. Thought maybe it may have been my brother coming home because the neighbor’s were fighting again. Then I heard the gunshot. Then I called you. “ It wasn't a lie, but it still sat weird in her stomach to be saying this. But then again, this wasn't the first time she lied to the police.

 

She shoves down the memories of sitting in front of blue suits nursing bruises and inexplicable illnesses as she sat in a hospitable bed.

 

“If you turn out to be lying, and somehow you’re involved in this…”The man raises a finger and she tries her best to keep her pride down so she didn't lash out.

 

They stare at each other intensely, before he turns around and takes off. His partner, sighs, taking off his hat to run his fingers through his hair. “Sorry about him, he’s had a rough week. My name is Harvey Bullock, if you remember anything, anything at all, that could help just call this number.” He hands her a card and turns to follow after the other man, who come to think of it, must be the infamous Jim Gordon. It sure explains the intensity.

 

The body and the cops were gone within the hour, although the strange man in glasses seemed particularly intrigued by father’s research. It took her and another cop to get him to drop the questions on it. She spent the rest of the night sitting on her couch staring at the blood while the sun rose. Then, once the shock wore off, she grabbed a bucket and some cleaning supplies and got to making sure the evidence was gone.

 

There was no way in hell she's going to let the blood be there when her brother shows up.


	2. Chapter 2

The blood won’t go away. It 's as if it seeped into the walls and decided to make it home. Frustrated she resolves to just cover it up with her father’s research. She tapes it along the walls and desk. Then she moves the rug to cover what was left of it on the floor. Stepping back she admires her work before deciding it was for the best, until she could get some paint to cover it up better. Her brother should be home any second now.

 

Just as the thought crosses her mind the door slams open and she jumps. She keeps thinking the bald man would return to rid himself of witnesses.

 

“Ugh, I keep telling Steve to stop having me come over after he knows his folks cheated on each other. They keep trying to use me as a counselor since they heard I did really good on that Psych exam…”

 

She holds her breath as he walks by the desk, not even sparing it a glance when he disappears into their shared bedroom. After a moment he sticks his head out, “What’s for breakfast?”

 

She smiles and gets to work.

 

Minutes later she watches him pick through his favorite breakfast, a frown marring his perfect features. He looks a lot like mom, something that never ceased to make her heart ache.

 

“What's up with the french toast? You only make it sometimes since…”

 

She chews her lip, she hadn’t considered making him suspicious at all. She keeps forgetting her brother isn't little anymore. Hell, he’d be graduating high school soon. And their father wouldn’t be there to see it.

 

“I...I have something to tell you. And it won't be easy to hear.” She takes his face into her hands, running her fingers soothingly over his cheeks. “Father...he’s dead.” His expression changes, going through confusion, pain, sadness and settling, finally, on anger.

 

“Who.”

 

She narrows her eyes, and tightens her hands. “Our father had a lot of enemies, Henry. Don’t go looking.” He glares at her and stands up, running out the door, slamming it hard enough to make the picture frames fall.

 

She hangs her head into her hands, praying she had been the only witness. She can’t have her brother looking for someone who was so obviously a professional.

 

Just who had her father angered?

 

* * *

 

 

Her brother didn’t come home after a couple hours so she drags herself to work. It was a tiny little hole in the Narrows. Just another bar in a town full of them. As soon as she steps through the door her mind is gone. She keeps thinking about that man, who had let her live. Who had killed her father. She would never know why he poisoned her like that now. To incapacitate instead of having the intention of death.

 

“Hey!”

A snap in front of her eyes draws her attention and she blinks in surprise.

 

“I need you to take these to that table back there. He requested you.” Her boss quickly shoves some drinks in her hand before meticulously fixing her hair.

 

She shrugs the lady off, uncomfortable with the idea of somebody requesting her. She's by far the least attractive girl here, more known for her quietness than the amount of leg she showed. She's only ever given the tables that clearly don’t want anyone bothering them with offers of taking them to the back for a ‘good time.’

 

She walks to the back table, hidden in the darkness. That table was dangerous. She and the other girls practically fought over who would be left to take care of it. Nothing good ever came from those who sat there.

 

“Your drinks, sir.” She mumbles, eyes strategically downcast. She couldn’t identify him as a criminal if she never saw his face, right?

 

“Doll.”

 

That voice!

 

She looks up before she can stop herself and finds the bald man from the night before. His intensity wobbles her knees as fear strikes her.

 

“How did you find me?”

 

He smirks and raises a hand. She shakes as he brings it closer, thinking he’d touch her with those hands, but instead he plucks the two drinks from her.

 

“Sit.”

 

She sits across from him immediately.

 

His smile widens as he sips on the drink, humming. “So obedient, like a pet.” The way he looks at her made her skin itch, she decides. All hungry intensity and hyper-focus. She feels less like a pet and more like prey.

 

“W-what do you want?” After a pause she adds, “sir.”

 

“I like it when you call me sir, say it again.” He leans in close as she fidgets. He's toying with her.

 

“L-look, if you’re worried I said anything I didn't-”

 

“I know you didn’t. That’s not why I’m here.”

 

His stare burns into her as he casually licks the straw. Her eyes drop to his mouth for just a second but she quickly shoves her eyes back onto his face. He doesn’t have eyebrows, she notices, finally.

 

“Then why?” She tilts her chin up, if he wasn’t here because he thought she’d snitch, then it must have something to do with her father.

 

“Your father..he tried to poison my boss. I’m just here to make sure you won't follow in his footsteps. “ He drops the straw and his hand is around the collar of her stupid uniform faster than she can react. “Because if you were...then I’m afraid I’d have to do something I really dont want to do.”

 

Her breath hitches, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins as she tries her best to calm herself. Her father would be so ashamed for her inability to remain poised. Mom had always been poised. Be poised.

 

“Who’s your boss?” She whispers, eyes searching his face. The Narrows didn’t adhere to the rules the rest of Gotham did. They could care less about what happened outside of it. She never left the Narrows.

 

“Falcone.”

 

Ice fills her as she shivers. She may have never ventured out but she knew of Falcone. “You bastard,” she hisses looking into the distance. Then she looks back at the man, who was tilting his head at her, “I’m not my father. He should have known better than to do that.”

 

His expression warms, and he lets go of her collar patting it down lovingly before taking back his hands. She relaxes against her seat once again as she stares at him. Would her word be enough to convince him she wanted nothing of her father’s legacy? She tries to make her expression as earnest as possible.

 

“I believe you, don't have to give me those puppy eyes. I think we’re done here.” He stands and begins to walk away before he turns around, finger up, “but.”

 

“But?” She asks, glued to her seat hanging onto his every word.

 

“But...if I were you, I’d keep a better eye on the little brother. He’s been asking around for me.”

 

Horrified, she watches him walk away. She needs to leave. Now.

 

* * *

 

 

She's most definitely getting fired from her job for running out like that but there were worse things that could happen. She keeps thinking that her brother could be at home, dying in a pool of blood just because he went around and did exactly what she told him not to do!

 

She throws the door open, eyes touching their entire little apartment in a second. It looks undisturbed so she goes through the bedrooms, even the closets finding no trace of him. Clenching and un-clenching her fists she thinks of her brother, kidnapped. Her brother, dead in some back alley, another faceless Narrows kid. Her brother, gone.

 

A scream leaves her throat as she slams her fist straight through the drywall. Tears drip down her face as she takes her hand out. She feels numb to the physical pain so she just walks, legs shaking to sit on the sofa.

 

Hours later, once the tears had dried and her hand had grown numb, the front door creaks open. She turns her head, part of her hoping it was some dumb ass robber coming in to shoot her another hoping it was exactly who she wants to see. 

 

“Jesus, why are you sitting in the dark?” The light flickers on and she blinks the stars away from her sight. Standing in front of the door, miraculously, is her brother.

 

She's up in a second, wrapping him in her embrace as she thanks that man for not touching her brother. He could have, but he didn’t.

 

“Hey! Let me go. What’s the big idea?”

 

Just like that the relief is gone and she shoves her brother away, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “What were you thinking?! Asking around for father’s killer?” She's screaming, she knows that, but she can't control it. “People like that shouldn't be messed with you should--”

 

“I should what? Sit in my room like a coward while dad begs for help?” Accusation drips from his voice.

 

She freezes.

 

“Yeah. I saw it happen. And then I saw you walk out and call the cops. You were awake.”

 

He then walks across the room and tears the papers off, shoves the chair over and lifts the carpet. Like a separate accusation all in its own, the blood stares at her. His chest is rising and falling with angry breaths as he stares at her, eyes burning with contempt.

 

“You. Sat. In. Your. Room. While Victor Zsasz killed our dad!”

 

Holy shit. **_The_** Victor Zsasz. Was that who she talked to? Her father hadn’t stood a single chance then, and he should have known. She closes her eyes, before steeling herself. Part of her had always known her father’s profession would lead to his death, she just didn't think it would lead to this. Her adoring brother, who begged for her attention, staring at her like she had been the one to pull the trigger.

 

“Our father tried to kill Carmine Falcone. He got what was coming.”

 

Her brother stares at her, eyes watering before he stalks across the room to stand right in front of her. “How could you be so heartless, (_Y/N_)?”

 

Then he grabs a backpack she hadn't seen.

 

“Where are you going?” Desperately she grabs at him but he just shrugs her off.

 

“To do what dad would have wanted.”

 

Then he's gone.

 

Off to kill Victor Zsasz.

 

She has to get there first.


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't have time to go searching like her brother had. She realizes that as she shoves all the money she had hidden into a bag. After a moment of contemplation she grabs her father’s journal. He always kept a log of those he did business with, who he killed, why, and how. Maybe it’d be useful.

 

Rummaging through the drawers looking for it she stumbles across her father’s dart gun. Should she bring it? Surely bringing a weapon to meet Zsasz was a bad idea…

 

She left it sitting in the drawer and instead flips through her father’s log. She ignores the long list of names and instead focuses on the F’s. Her father may have been slightly unhinged but he was still a man who liked order, thankfully.

 

“Carmine Falcone. Ordered by Fish Mooney. Gang war. Possible complications: Protection detail…See page 116.” She whispers the words and turns to the page where a card flutters out.

 

Heart thumping she grabs it and sees the address on it. At the bottom were the initials VZ. She sighs in relief and takes off, flip phone out, calling a cab.

 

* * *

 

 

The building isn’t what she expected it to be at all. It was beautiful, sure, but there was a very obvious knife decal on the outside of the door. Confused, she walks through the door and it makes even less sense then. It looks exactly like an office waiting room, complete with a secretary clicking away at a computer. She eyeballs the surrounding area and figures since there didn't seem to be sign of any sort of scuffle that her brother had yet to arrive. She prays he isn't trying to drag some poor young gang into this mess with him. Or worse, meeting with someone with a lot more firepower to bargain. Like she is.

 

“Um, excuse me.” She leans against the chest height desk, nervously tapping her fingers.

 

A finger shot out, stopping her from continuing and she watches the woman continue to tap her keys for a moment longer before she pauses and fixes her with a stare from behind her cat eye glasses.

 

“Appointment or walk in?”

 

She shifts her weight from foot to foot as she wonders what would get her an audience with Zsasz faster. “Listen...I just have to warn him, something's coming.”

 

The woman raises a carefully drawn eyebrow before turning back to her computer, clicking a couple of things on her screen. She tries to lean over to see but a sharp glare stops her and she steps away.

 

“Well, you’re in luck. He has an open spot right about now. Someone’s meeting was….cut short.” She gives her a smile before pressing a button on her desk and announcing that “Mr.Zsasz has a visitor.”

 

The doors next to the desk opens automatically and she gives the woman a nervous look but she's already all eyes on her computer again.

 

She didn't made it ten steps in the door before a voice commands her to stop. Suddenly two girls step from the shadows and grab her arms.

 

“Bring her here.” That voice again. Shivers run down her spine as she's brought in front of a throne.

 

He gives her a grin, “hi again.” He throws his arms back as if presenting the room to her, “Welcome to my little corner of the kingdom. Zsaszettes, say hello.”

 

A chorus of greetings come from the girls who were lounging around the room in various seats. All of them had some kind of weapon. 

 

“We need to talk--”

 

“First, search her. “

 

She blanches, freezing as the women at either side of her meticulously touch her. They're incredibly thorough and the one on the right even winks at her as she passes a hand around her chest area.

 

“This wasn't necessary only an idiot would come here armed to hurt.” She glowers as they finally slink away.

 

“I am nothing if not careful, Doll. Now, business.”

 

She takes a calming breath, now that she thinks this isn't even his house, despite all the grandeur, and that he has all these women here as his employees, that what she has in her backpack may not be enough to pay for her brother’s life. She chews her lip, she has to think of something fast.

 

“My brother is coming to kill you. “

 

Victor’s amusement changes immediately and he leans forward. All the girls around her stiffen and she wonders if maybe she should have opened up with something different. She feels like a gazelle in the middle of a lion’s den.

 

“The same pipsqueak or do you have another brother I should be worried about?”

 

“The same. I know he won't even get past those doors but I wanted to warn you...and ask that you spare him.” She looks up from his feet and meets his eyes, trying to show strength where there is none. She hasn't slept since he saw her last night, and she wants for nothing more than her brother’s safety and sleep.

 

“And why would I do that.”

 

She grabs her backpack, stopping momentarily as all the girls stand. He waves them off. “I have money. Not a lot but I could keep paying you overtime--”

 

“I’m pretty sure a kid from the slums doesn't have 10 grand.”

 

She pauses. She barely has 2 grand in her bag. Frustrated, she drops it next to her, her hand holding on to the journal. This is the only other thing she can give up. “My father’s journal. Holds all his hits and who ordered them. Even has Falcone’s failed hit detailed.”

 

Interest lights up his eyes and she tries to hide the relief. Now they are getting somewhere.

 

“That would certainly be useful...but I don’t think it's enough to save a life. Especially the life of someone who’s planning on killing me.”

 

The journal drops into the bag and she tugs at her hair. What was left to bargain with now? She showed her hand and he wanted none of it. She hears the front door of the place slam open. Then a loud call and she realizes she's out of time. Her brother is minutes away from death unless she's able to do something about it first.

 

If her brother died there would be nothing stopping her from launching herself into the grave with him. She failed mom, even failed her father, but there was no way she’d live through failing her brother.

 

“Tick tock, Doll. Seems like your brother is here for some fun. “

 

She nods and slowly drops to her knees. His dark eyes follow her. There's a slam against the double doors to the room they were in. She has one last thing she can offer him.

 

She lays her head down by his feet, tears brimming to the surface. She's begging now, all traces of pride erased.

 

"Please...don't kill him."

 

Victor stares at her, crossing one leg over the other. This was so very...interesting.

 

"What do I get in return for that, doll?"

 

“Me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Tense shoulders. Tense silence from those in the room. Outside of it there is yelling on the other side of the doors. “Zsasz! Come out you coward!”

 

She flinches. Henry sounds like their father. Where is all the sweetness and charm her baby brother held?

 

She looks up as two feet firmly plant on the floor before her. Zsasz seems to enjoy watching her squirm on the floor, jumping every time her brother slams against the doors.

 

“Think about what you’re doing. Are you sure?”

 

She bites her lip, because the truth was, no, she isn’t sure but this at all. She had heard all kinds of stories about Zsasz in her time working at the bar. He's a hit man, and he has a taste for torture. A sharp cracking sound fills the air and she turns. The frosted glass on the door has started to crack.

 

The words are out faster than she can think them.

 

“Please! I’m yours!” She shouts at his feet, shaking with fear. _Please_ , _let him take the offer_. Much quieter now, “You can do whatever you want with me...just spare him.”

 

Shoulders shaking as she fights the tears falling from her eyes, she waits, breath stuck in her throat.

 

“Well, shit, that’s all you had to say Doll.”

 

He's on his feet, door falling apart as her brother marches in, grim determination written all over his face. He doesn’t even make it the ten steps she had.

 

“I’m going to kill you for what you did to my dad. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.” Her baby brother lifts the gun level with Zsasz’s face.

 

“Henry!”

 

He swerves, and misses his first shot. It grazes his target’s shoulder instead. He shifts his aim once he spots her. To his credit Zsasz didn't even flinch, just smiled and dusted his suit, completely ignoring the blood. "This is designer you know."

 

“(_Y/N_)?” The grip on the gun tightens and she sees him considering her role in all this before his eyes narrow and he squares his shoulders. She sees his finger flex around the trigger. “Traitor till the end, I see.”

 

Zsasz snaps his finger, signaling someone.

 

She didn't even have time to reply before a girl with long auburn hair steps out of the shadows and shoot him. Her hands clap on top of her mouth as tears rush down her face uncontrollably.

 

Zsasz turns to her and sighs, rolling his eyes. “Relax. He’s alive.”

 

At that comment anger burned through her veins. “You didn’t have to shoot him!” She hisses, running to her brother’s side. Blood was steadily streaming from a wound in his shoulder and she winces as he groans in pain. His eyes were unfocused and he was muttering, already moving to get up but then with a swift kick from the same girl who shot him he stops. 

 

“Fuck! Can you guys stop that!”

 

The girl huffs, “he had a knife pointed at your back. You’re welcome.”

 

Surprised, she stops putting pressure on his wound. A knife?

 

“He was going to shoot you.” Zsasz steps up to them and she reflexively covers her brother's body with hers.

 

“No, he wouldn't shoot me. “

 

His dark eyes watch her for a moment, before taking a deep breath. “Alright, let agree to disagree. What do you want to do with the body?”

 

Her eyebrow twitches at his wording but she takes a calming breath. She has to think about this.

 

“Our deal only covers one saving.” He adds, after a moment of silence.

 

“I understand.” She snaps, brow furrowing.

 

Henry wouldn't stop. Not as long as he's in Gotham. She wipes the tears from her face, her answer lied in the problem. Henry wouldn't stop as long as he's in Gotham, ergo, he can't stay in Gotham.

 

“I'll send him to Metropolis. Someone owes me a favor.”

 

Zsasz raises a non existent brow, curiosity evident on his face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Packing her brother's things was strange. She always figured she'd do this when he went to that university whose pamphlet he kept poorly hidden in his sock drawer. She never once thought she'd be sending him away.

 

The call with her contact in Metropolis went gone well. They were more than willing to get rid of the debt they owed her, ever so prideful the two of them. They promised to keep him away from Gotham forever.

 

And now, that she belongs to Victor Zsasz it meant she'd never see him again either. And the last look she had of him was his resentment. Zsasz was right. He looked ready to shoot her. Her. She'd been the only one to care for him, without her they would have starved a long time ago. Without her, her father would have killed him. And he had no idea. Her father had died. And he had taken her brother down with him, the hateful bastard.

 

She lets the tears drop into the box. There's no one to witness them here anyways. It was awful that everything her brother owned could fit in this box so nicely. They never owned much. Hell, the only reason they owned the apartment was because her father paid the landlord off with a little favor.

 

She snorts, who would have known it would have been so short lived?

 

She grabs her things next, shoving them in a duffel bag she had from when she used to steal in grocery stores. Her stuff looked even sadder in her bag. It was barely filled halfway by the time she's done. She had little need for casual clothes when she spent as much time as possible in uniform. Besides that, no use in wasting money on clothes that would inevitably be ruined in one of her father's experiments. Still, what an empty bag. 

 

She wipes her eyes turning to the only decoration worth taking. It's a picture, kept in the only frame they owned. Her mom's smile had always lit up a room, the same smile Henry inherited. Tracing her finger along the glass she notes all the similarities between the two. She was so jealous of him, how he could look into any mirror and see their mom.

 

“You always told me that while Henry had your looks that I had your heart…” She smiles, watery, as the ache in her chest doubles. “What would you say now if you could see the decisions I've made…”

 

An alarm on her phone breaks her out of her thoughts and she pulls away. She desperately wants to take the picture with her but guilt weighs her down heavily and so she slips it out of the frame and gives it one last long look, committing the picture to memory.

 

Mom, holding her brother tightly, as she curled an arm around her. Her father's hand, tight on her shoulder disappearing into a crease where she had folded him away long ago. Even now without flipping it over she knew his eyes were narrowed in a glare, angry eyes too much like her own. She's the perfect copy of him and she was reminded every time she looked at her reflection.

 

Sighing, she took a pen and scrawled on the back of it in cursive loops. The words stare back at her mockingly. Simple. She knows that they will probably never be read. Her brother wouldn't bother taking the picture out. She flips it over again, laying a soft kiss over her mom and her little brother. Then, with shaking hands she folds herself away. The picture went back in the frame and then into her brother's box.

 

She stands and casts one last look at everything in their room before trudging out into the main area. Her father’s desk looms over everything and she still expects to see him there, pouring over notes before beckoning her over to try some new awful concoction. Sometimes he’d poison her just to see if her body had gotten better at not dying.

 

Staring at it she considers leaving it untouched but her father’s research was dangerous and dammit she provided more than half of the information in his stupid journals. Glowering she snatches the ten volumes, one for every year, and shoves them into her bag as well. She contemplates opening the safe and grabbing the vials she knows are there but it's well hidden, behind the desk embedded in the wall. In fact, it had taken her four years to even realize it resided there. It’d be well protected from the future squatters and robbers who would show up once they realized this place was abandoned.

 

After one last look around she goes to leave but as she passes the closet she pauses. It isn't exactly sentimentality that makes her place hand on the door and whisper a goodbye but it feels wrong leaving without saying anything. She spent so long thinking she’d die in there. And now she's leaving this place knowing she’d never have to step foot in it again.

 

She's leaving. A laugh bubbles up in her throat as she locks the front door. Part of her should have been nervous for what was coming next but truth was she can only feel relief. Relief at leaving. Relief at her freedom from her father. Relief that her brother was alive and probably already on the way to Metropolis. She just feels relieved. Besides, Zsasz isn't the first person she offered herself to in exchange for her brother’s safety.


	5. Chapter 5

Curiously, the door is back in place when she gets back. Weirded out, she opens it ever so carefully. She very clearly remembers it being in pieces, blown in from whatever homemade bomb her brother had brought to help him.

 

Stepping through it she finds that the reception room is just as pristine as it had been when she arrived earlier that night. The secretary is back in her place too, clicking away at her computer.

 

A strange sense of deja-vu filled her as she walks up to the desk. She goes to open her mouth but then, the finger comes, pausing her once again. Bewildered, she turns to look for evidence of her brother’s invasion but not even a scuff mark remained. It's like he was never here. 

 

Finally the secretary fixes her eyes on her and gestures for her to speak.

 

“Mr. Zsasz...where is he?”

 

She smiles, “He had business to take care of. He’s a very busy man, however he did leave me in charge of taking care of you.”

 

The woman stands, snatching the box meant for her brother placing it on her desk. “I will have this delivered to him as soon as possible. I guarantee that it will arrive before tomorrow morning.”

 

She nods, and follows the secretary through the same doors she had gone through earlier. The frosted glass looks pristine, like the rest of the room.

 

“My name is Katja, I handle a lot of what happens here from grocery lists to managing the hits the girls do.”

 

They slink past Zsasz’s throne and through a set of double doors that almost seamlessly blend into the wall. She didn’t even notice it the first time she was here. Granted, she had been more preoccupied with saving her brother’s life and striking a deal with Zsasz. Who now owns her.

 

She frowns.

 

“This here is the common area. The girls all share this and it is their, and now your, responsibility to maintain it. Mr. Zsasz does not like messes here. Behind that door is the library, that one holds the armory, this one a gym as well as a set of communal showers etc. Now-”

 

“What about that one?” She points to the one Katja didn't address. It looks like all the other doors, save for the very large lock on it.

 

“That is...the Playroom.” Katja smiles thinly at her before taking off towards the spiral staircase in the corner of the grand room.

 

“Wait, what is that supposed to be? Why is it locked?”

 

Katja ignored it all, walking so fast she nearly trips over herself trying to keep up, both with her speed and the rapid fire of words expelling from her mouth.

 

“There are two floors of rooms like these. Each one belongs to one of the girls, roughly about twenty-two of them reside here currently along with a couple others who have gotten permission to be elsewhere. They are on call twenty-four-seven, save for the seventh of every month. I assume that is exactly the same schedule you’ll have. This is your room. Now, good night.”

 

Then she's unceremoniously shoved into a room with the door shut in her face promptly. She hears the loud click of Katja’s heels until they fade away.

 

“Well, thanks, could I have some water with that door slam?” She mutters, turning to face her new home.

 

The room is sparse, roughly resembling a picture of a dorm she had seen in her brother’s college brochure. A twin bed laid tucked against a corner with a set of drawers opposite it. There are two doors here, one she assumes for a closet and maybe the other for a bathroom. She opens both and confirms her suspicions.

 

Overall, it's a simple but not overly cheap room. The carpet beneath her feet was alone more luxurious than anything she had ever set her bare feet upon. Sighing she drops her bag and then tosses herself onto the bed, too tired to remove much more than her shoes and socks, She closes her eyes and for the first time in the last twenty four hours, she relaxes. Sleep takes her faster than she expected and she spends it all dreaming of dark eyes and hands tugging her close.

 

* * *

 

 

Morning came quietly and for once, no brutal alarm awoke her. She blinks her eyes sleepily and sits up quickly once she realizes everything that happened was not,in fact, a dream. Her father really was dead. And now, well now, she belongs to Victor Zsasz.

  
That thought alone is more sobering than any cup of coffee. She quickly stands up to start getting ready for the day and whatever it may hold.

 

Her shower took longer than it should have but damn it she hadn’t felt hot water in ages. She sighs, and soaks it in before emerging wrapped in a perfect white towel. This all felt very much surreal but as she wipes away the steam to take a look at herself she knows it's all very real. If it had been a dream she would have made herself look a little bit prettier, or at the very least banished the dark circles under her eyes. She still looks sick from the last round of experiments. Sighing, she brushes her teeth quickly, trying to ignore the tired looking thing in the mirror.

 

Exiting from the bathroom left her shivering and she bends to look for clothes when a sudden voice startles her. “My, my, little Doll. You do have curves under all those baggy clothes you wear.”

 

“What the FUCK!”

 

She drops the duffel bag and her hands quickly go to tighten the towel on her body as she stares at the man who technically now owned her.

 

“What a dirty little mouth you have.” He hums and appraises her, lips curling into a smile as he slowly brings his eyes back up to her face.

 

Nervously, she tries to simultaneously tug the towel down to cover more of her legs while also bringing it up to hide her chest.

 

“What are you doing here?” She finally asks, voice cracking with nerves as she attempts to not squirm under his heavy stare. She feels like he can see through the towel with the way he's eyeing her up.

 

“Well, I thought I should say good morning! See how you slept.”

 

She stares at him because surely that couldn’t be why he sneaked into her room and then chose to stay here when she was clearly in the shower. She tightens her hold on the towel.

 

“Relax, sit with me.” He pats the spot next to him and she reluctantly inches forward. He keeps his gaze on her the entire time and only seemed to let up when she finally perched on the edge of her bed.

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

She bites her lip wondering what the best response to that was. She feels like she's walking on eggshells, painfully aware that she's as unprotected as she could get. No weapon and no clothes to even discourage anything. Finally, she clears her throat and responds.

 

“I slept.”

 

His eyes slide away from the ceiling. He lets out a sigh.

 

“You’re so boring right now. Where’s the girl I met last night? You’re even shaking.”

 

She is. Carefully she stills it, drawing on all the strength she has inside. Her mask is slipping, damn it, she's better at hiding her emotions than this. She knows it. But something about this man left her feeling bare and open. Like she's made of glass and he can see right through her.

 

“What do you need, sir. I would like to get dressed soon.”

 

“I rather like you like this.”

 

She narrows her eyes, and raises her chin defiantly as she tucks in the ends of her towel firmly in place.

 

His eyes light up and he sits up, uncrossing his legs and bringing them back to the floor. “There you are….And what I need for you is to reveal to me a secret.”

 

He leans in close to her, a breath away and she holds it, locked into place by his stare.

 

“A secret?” She whispers, too afraid of breaking the spell he has cast on her.

 

“Yes...a secret of utmost importance.” Zsasz raises a hand, gloved she realizes and pinches her chin in between his fingers. He sheds his playful demeanor and the seriousness is back. Zsasz has a one track mind, and right now he has business on his mind.

 

“Tell me who ordered the hit on Falcone.”

 

She blinks.

 

“Fish Mooney of course.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Ah.”

 

She stares at him, nervousness bubbling up in her stomach as his grip tightens just enough to be uncomfortable.

 

“Of course.”

 

And then he’s gone, whirling out of the room like a bat from hell.

 

She stays there, frozen in the position he left her in for far longer than she wants to admit. She can still feel the heat of his touch on her face and her stomach flips at the thought of how much worse it would have been with bare skin. A knock startles her from her thoughts and she jumps up, wiping her face quickly as if trying to chase the feeling away.

 

“Yes?”

 

The door swings open and in walks what very well could be a child, given the small stature of the person. But the way she pops her gum and hits her with a look says otherwise. “Name’s Tobi. Zsasz told me to take you out shopping so you’re not wearing... _that_ ….when you go to your first meeting.” Disgust drips from her tone as she eyes her clothes.

 

She tugs at the baggy band t shirt and the loose jeans, feeling self conscious because Tobi is wearing what looks like a cross between business casual and fetish gear. A striking combination. “What’s wrong with my stuff?”

 

An arched eyebrow and another loud smack of gum is all she gets.

 

Five minutes later she’s staring bewildered at the racks stuffed to the brim with clothes.

 

“What is this?”

 

Tobi sighs and shoves her way past her and starts plucking things from a rack marked with a number. She eyes a couple things before shoving them towards her.

 

“This is our costume room, if you wanna call it that. A lot of our shit gets shredded on the job and Zsasz got tired of us looking raggedy in between shopping trips so he just got a bunch of this shit and put it in the den that used to be up here on the second floor. You can borrow anything here, keep it even if you want. Anything is better than what you’re wearing now.”

 

With no chance to react to her insult Tobi starts chucking things at her. She barely catches the clothes that are thrown and she pulls the first thing up and pales. “How am I supposed to put this on?”

 

Tobi shrugs. “I don't know, but the color fits your skin tone nice, makes it look like you’re not half-dead anymore.”

 

She deadpans and goes over the curtain hiding in the corner and pulls it shut, perhaps with a little more force than needed. “What meeting am I going to? It will help with what I pick.” She really doesn’t want to take any of these things but she doubted Zsasz would let her walk beside him in his impeccable suits looking the way she did now. Even if she liked what she had on. She considers it one of her best outfits.

 

“Beats me. I’ve got a mission so I’m not going.”

 

“But Tobi...how old are you? Shouldn’t you be at school right now?” She grabs what looks like a skirt and slips it on and then picks out a simple white top with a square neckline. It feels soft, and fits her so well she’s surprised.

 

“What’s it to you? I’m old enough to do whatever I damn well please.” She flinches at the ice in her tone and steps out, trying to placate the girl with a smile.

 

“Sorry, I just never got to finish school, I had to quit for my brother. I can’t imagine not going because it’s your choice.”

 

Tobi looks her up and down before sniffing and motioning for her to take a turn. “Yeah well, I can’t imagine my life revolving entirely around a boy who turns on me the minute things look bad.”

  
She stumbles and the good feelings that were starting to form dissipate faster than her money on bill days. When she finishes the turn, Tobi shakes her head no and she takes the cue to hide herself behind the curtain. The comment had felt like a knife stabbing into her but it doesn’t make it ring any less true. Her life had revolved around her brother from the minute of her mom’s death. He hadn’t even tried to hear her out.

 

“Try the blue one!” Tobi calls when she takes too long to pick another outfit.

 

She lifts the dress and eyes it. It’s dark and doesn’t look as revealing as the things she had moved to the obvious no pile on the short bench they had placed against the wall. She slips it on and notes the way it hugs her figure as well as hides the bones that jut out on her rib cage and hips. She runs her hands on it and takes a step out.

 

Tobi whistles. “Looks good.”

 

“Great, so just this one?”

 

The girl laughs. “If your closet is more of what you had on. You’re gonna need more than one dress. Now, go. Try the black pants and that white top again.”

 

After what feels like forever, she’s walking back to her room, arms heavy with several, different outfits as well as three pairs of shoes. She tries to think of the last time she splurged on herself and can’t recall anything. She never bought anything new and at least two of the items still had price tags on them. Price tags which had made her feel like her hands were too dirty to touch the clothes once she had spotted them. Having these new things, this nice new home, that didn’t have randomly flickering lights or bugs, made her happy. Tobi, sensing her returned good mood comments on it.

 

“Well...it’s like you said Tobi. My life revolved around my brother. I’ve never had anything new like this.” She says sheepishly and Tobi’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open.

 

“You’re kidding!”

 

She shakes her head no, because unfortunately it’s not a joke. The last new thing she had was a blanket she’d been gifted during her last hospital visit. Fresh out of the plastic and everything. Still smelled like a hospital too. She guessed now, some rando would happen upon it in the apartment and take it.

 

“Jeez girl, you might actually out-poor Eva, and she came from a third-world country. She got new shoes every Christmas.”

 

Tobi tosses open her door and jumps onto her bed, making herself feel at home in a way that is almost reminiscent of their boss. Although little Tobi doesn't take up the space in the same way he does. He’s like a black hole drawing her in. Tobi just looks like princess. A very weirdly dressed, pixie-cut having princess.

 

She’d point it but she’s sure Tobi would not like that. She starts putting things away and decides she’ll wear the dress along with the sensible oxford heels. They’re not very tall but it would help bring the look together. Nervously, she chews her lip and wonders about the mysterious meeting she’ll have to attend.

 

Her mind flashes to her brother immediately but shrugs the thought away. Her contact had left a clear text that simply read ‘Received both packages.’ And seeing as nothing had followed she assumed that everything was going well. She wants to know more but considering the person on the other side she knew he’d handle everything with a business like intensity. He wouldn't tell her if her brother was eating or if he was sleeping well but he’d certainly keep him alive. More than enough. It had to be.

 

“HellooOoo! You better hurry up and jump into that shower and do something magical because I leave in less than an hour and I’m supposed to make sure you’re ready.” Tobi tosses a pillow and it hits her with deadly accuracy. She stumbles and turns, an ugly glare on her face.

 

Tobi arches an eyebrow before glancing away from her pointedly. “Girl, you have the god-awful older-sibling stare down. Get ready.” She snaps and pulls out what could be a game boy and begins to ignore her.

 

“I already showered.”

 

“Well did you happen to take a look at your hair in there? Because it sure as hell don’t look like it.” She huffs as she dies in her game and restarts the level.

 

Silence.

 

“That’s what I thought. Get back in there.”

 

Scowling, she marches into the bathroom and scrutinized her hair. It looked a little lifeless, sure, and to be honest it could probably use more than one treatment. It probably had not helped that this morning she simply used the bar of soap she had to lather he hair. She casts a look at the bathroom and opens the little cabinet under the sink. She eyes the bottles of product in there at a loss. She's so used to all in one that it was ridiculous to think that there could be this many products for one person to use, all of which accomplished different things. Well, hopefully this can do some kind of miracle on her.

 

Once again, she marvels at the hot water and once it was all done she can admit that the products, however overly gendered they seemed, were good. She smells delicious and her hair is softer that it has ever been. She decides that braiding it would be nice and fit the general appearance she's going for. After some quick movements it's done and she exits the bathroom.

 

Tobi jumps up with a sense of flourish. “Well, it’ll do. Braid was a nice touch. I have to go now and arm up.” With that she walks out, cursing at her game all the while.

 

She frowns, because she thought she looked a lot better. Turning herself to look in the mirror she notes that she should probably gain a few pounds. The dress would look worlds better than it did now, even if it did look passable. She hopes that now, doing something like that would be achievable. She's tired of feeling unhealthy.

 

With that in mind she decides to head to the kitchen again. She's hungry and seeing as she had yet to eat it felt like something she should most definitely focus on next. She was sure breakfast had gone and past her and settles on looking for early lunch. What she wouldn’t give to eat something other than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

 

The common room is empty when she climbs down so she carefully creeps into the kitchen. Rummaging through the cabinets she finds several promising things, considering making some kind of meatloaf maybe or other. Something that the girls could enjoy, possibly. She's just turning to go look inside the fridge when she realizes that there is a girl standing directly behind her.

 

“FUCK! DO YOU PEOPLE NOT MAKE ANY SOUND?!” She grasps her chest, heart jumping as she tries to calm it down. She hadn’t heard her come to her at all, and who knows how long she’d been there, watching her essentially ransack their kitchen.

 

“We’re assassins. We’d suck at our jobs if we let our victims know when we were coming.” The woman stares at her, eyeing her up and down.

 

“So, heard through the gossip train that lives around here that you made a deal with Zsasz. That takes some serious balls.” The woman pushes past her and grabbing an apple from the counter behind her. “My name is Tatiana.”

 

“Oh...nice to meet you, my name is (Y/N). And I guess so...I just wanted to save my brother.” She says and tries to create some space between them. The woman just follows her and she wonders if anyone in this building knows what boundaries are.

 

“You mean the same brother that wanted to shoot you?” The woman arches an eyebrow before biting into her apple.

 

“He did not want to shoot me!” She exclaims.

 

Tatiana continues munching on the fruit, nodding at her. “Sure, whatever you say. Anyways Zsasz told me to tell you to meet him in his office.”

 

“And where is that?”

 

She rolls her eyes, before grabbing her and yanking her back to the throne room.

 

“In there. Jesus, I thought Katja gave you a tour.” Not even giving her a moment to reply the rather rude woman disappears.

 

_Is everyone here proficient in giving sass and attitude….?_

 

Steeling her nerves she brushes the thought away. Counting to three, she forces herself to knock on the door. She waits, for far longer than she thought she’d have to, and feels her anxiety coming back full force. She tugs a stray strand of hair behind her ear and shifts from foot to foot. Finally, she hears someone say come in.

 

“Hiya, doll.”

 

She drags her eyes away from the stranger in the room and focuses on Zsasz. He's playing with a knife, twirling it this way and that and she finds herself entranced by it.

 

“Sir? I was told you needed me?” Her hand tightens on the door handle and she is loathe to let go but at he held out a finger and urges her forward with a swift motion. It looks almost vulgar combined with the darkness of the leather gloves as well as the face he's making.

 

Her feet take her to him far faster than her mind wants to. His office wasn’t as big as she thought it would be, just a grand oak table and shelves lining most walls. There wasn’t a single window. She wonders if it was strategic on his part, a way to intimidate the people he meets or if it was to keep out any potential shots heading his way. She stops right in front of his desk, carefully angling herself to see both the stranger as well as the assassin.

 

“See how polite she is? Haven’t I just found the most obedient little pet this side of the bay? Didn’t even have to break her.” Pride soaks into his tone and part of her wants to flinch but she sees the way he glances at her and she keeps her face impassive. He must have said that for a reason.

 

“Why, why, yes. I do see.”

 

The man looks nervous. She can see the sweat on his brow. He’s got the funniest little suit on, with a bow tie and everything. She can see how he favors one of his legs and she writes that down in her memory. It could be important, useful later. Her father taught her to pay attention to weaknesses, having sat through enough of his business dealings while looking like a dutiful daughter serving drinks.

 

“Now, Mr….Cobpot-” Zsasz begins.

 

“It’s Cobblepot...sir.” He adds as an afterthought.

 

She doesn’t miss the ways the man’s eyes flash at his name being mispronounced. She can see the temper there, hidden. So much worse than her father’s cool, detached anger. Temper like that gets people killed. She slides closer to Zsasz, and crosses her hands behind her back. She clenches fists tight, ready to launch herself away if the situation called for it.

 

“Hm, my mistake. Anyways, I need to know what you know.” Zsasz leans back in his chair and taps his glass. She walks around and grabs the pitcher of what could be some clear alcohol or water. She takes a sniff. Water. Business indeed. Her father always took water too.

 

“And what would that be?” A sweat drop slides down and she traces it with her eyes. She decides she’s safer standing right behind Zsasz.

 

“Tell me about your boss.”

 

“My boss?”

 

The knife slams into the desk, embedding itself deeply into the wood. She winces and her fists tighten, nails biting into her palm.

 

“Stop playing games. You know exactly what you’re here for. Now either talk or **_this_** knife is going to be in **_you_ **.” You would think he would have hissed all that but no, he just says it in that same calculating tone he’s used on her during all their business talks. Even now, it makes her heart skip a beat. “Okay?” His tone changes, back to a mildly amused one and she can see the face he’s making in her head. All raised eyebrows with none of the hair and a grin that looks like a warning.

 

Why is she here? She begins to think as the man before her begins to throw up word after word. So far, aside from pouring some water into Zsasz’s glass and having that weird man give her a couple of glances she’s done nothing. It couldn’t have been for intimidation or backup, of course. He’s got dozens of girls around here, including the one who sent her here. She rocks on her feet and flexes her hands, which were starting to feel numb from being closed so tight.

 

The man has tears in his eyes and she wonders if they’re real. If he really is that terrified. He bows his head and she feels how Zsasz turns to look at her, stare boring into her skull like a laser. She turns her head and meets his gaze for as long as she can manage. Again, she feels crystal clear and her mouth twitches with the urge to scowl back at him. An instinctual response for when any man takes more than a second look.

 

“Okay. We’re done here. Get out.” He says, finally, after what feels like minutes of them listening about Fish Mooney’s favorite this and that.

 

“Sir?” The sweat drop on his nose finally falls and she can’t resist the urge to feel relieved. It sat there, teetering for the longest time that it took all the hard earned patience she had not to say anything.

 

“I said, get out.” A pause. “And I would hope I wouldn’t have to tell you this but...don’t tell anyone about this. I **_will_   **know and I **_will_   **hunt you down, personally.” A flash of teeth and the man is blubbering out his thank yous and running out, limping.

 

“Huh...I guess he does kinda look like a penguin.” Zsasz tilts his head as the door begins to close. She sees the way the man turned, all hideous malevolence once he caught the assassin's words. There is not a doubt in her mind, had he been given the chance or had the bravery he would have tried something.

 

She lets her fists fall at her sides and out comes a deeply held breath. She felt queasy through all of that, put on edge by the entire man’s demeanor. It was like he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and he played the part as easily as some people can play a piano. 

 

“Did you catch anything?” Zsasz turns to her, and she feels her breath stutter because having that man around was terrible, yes, but being alone with this one makes her feel terrified in a whole new way. She isn’t prepared to be alone with him at all.

 

She briskly walks to the door and shuts it all the way, trying to hide the fact that she was putting space in between them. Space to think, to breath. Just space so it didn’t feel like her skin is going to melt just by him looking at her. Although, that would certainly prevent him from looking at her anymore, probably. She’d look hideous.

 

“He’s angry.” Simple. A good opening.

 

“Hm.” Zsasz tilts his head, and she bites her lip.

 

“A bad temper, he could screw things up.” Her hair falls forward in front of her face and she lets it. Anything to block the strange way Zsasz focuses on things.

 

It’s always either all or nothing with the man it seems, he hasn’t moved since she walked over here, save for turning to face her. Now he sits, calmly with a semblance of nonchalance as he leans back in his chair. A king, even here, despite the fact he sits in a regular (albeit fancy and probably more expensive than her rent) office chair.

 

He nods and thinks on her words for a minute. “Screw things up how? You think he’ll tell?”

 

“Not if it’s convenient for him not to. He may want this Fish Mooney dead. I hear she doesn’t treat her umbrella boys so nice.” She shrugs and decides sitting would be better. Her legs are shaking slightly and he’s already told her once that her shaking bothers him. He wants the girl who willingly stalked his whereabouts knowing his reputation to strike a deal. Brave. Fearless, even.

 

He makes a motion, like he’s telling her to go on.

 

“There was a boy once, not much older than my brother. He wanted to put out a hit, told us she killed his brother on a whim. My father refused once he heard who it was on. She’s a good client, pays him to keep his little serums to himself.” She nervously details, and crosses her legs in front of her to appear a little bit more calm than she feels. She keeps waiting. Waiting for what, she’s not sure.

 

“Interesting. Did your father do much for her? Aside from keeping his hands to himself?”

 

She casts her eyes to the side, trying to remember the days where that big man would come, relaying orders from the woman herself. He had been nice to her, and had once called an ambulance for her. “A small thing here or there. Once she got big she stopped, too many people saying poison is for cowards, a woman’s weapon. She wanted to be like the boys.” She guesses. Because it's true, she supposed. Poison was for cowards. Her father was a coward.

 

“The last hit she ordered was for Falcone.”

  
  
She nods.

 

“Now, I see where your father falls into all this. An old friend, maybe she promised him some things and he decided to do it. I’m sure Falcone’s been a hit someone has tried to get him to do before. Couldn’t have been his first thought at this, he got way too close…” Zsasz starts muttering, gloved hands coming to rest at his chin, clasped. He closes his eyes as his mouth continues to move.

 

She chooses this time to study him more. She hadn’t gotten much of a chance except for the quick glances she stole when she could stomach meeting his eyes. On most guys, baldness wasn’t appealing but staring at him, she could see that it fit him. Fit him like his suit did and like killing did. His mouth pulled down and her eyes were drawn there. He didn’t have a lot of it, she thought, but it looked soft.

 

She had never kissed anyone before, thanks to her sickly appearance most people generally avoided her. Didn’t help that she dropped out so early in high school either. Sure, there had been one or two people who ventured to try and get to know her but she was light years ahead of them in term of maturity and responsibilities. It was also hard to want more from people when she was terrified of her father killing her.

 

“That journal you tried to bargain with...it has the plans for how he did that?”

 

She nods, before her eyes slip back up and she notices he’s still got his eyes closed. He looks like he hasn’t got any eyelashes. She’d have to get closer to check but that idea makes her heart race and her flight or fight instinct kick up into overdrive. Her body twists toward the door and she casts it a longing look.

 

“Doll?”

 

She jumps.

 

“Yes sir!” She feels her cheeks grow hot and prays he didn’t notice her observations nor her obvious desire to leave. “I haven’t taken a look at it yet, he codes his plans but I should be able to decipher it with little to no trouble.”

 

“ Perfect. Have it done before the meeting tonight. We’re going to have dinner with the boss.” He nods and waves her away, dismissing her. Relieved, she stands and goes to leave when he seems to change his mind.

 

Zsasz has a one track mind. She knows this but right now, something in his expression shifts and it looks like he’s hopped on a different train of thought. He licks his lips and flicks his eyes up and down her body. He smirks and tilts his head up, meeting her eyes. He holds her there, for a moment and she can feel the way her traitorous body reacts. This man owns her but she had resolved last night that she’d do his bidding with the same sense of detachment she used to serve the bar’s criminals. She feels like she's getting too close, like she's teetering on the edge of something. She waits, for him to continue, breath catching in her throat. She wants him to speak almost as much as she wants him to never say anything to her ever again. She closes her eyes, bracing herself. 

 

“Doll, that dress….looks good.” His tone is gravelly and she can picture the way he slides his eyes up and down her frame. She shivers and her flight instinct takes over. Cheeks flaming she turns and escapes from him. Escapes the room. Escapes the conversation. Escapes his burning gaze all the while feeling like she’s been touched.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote this several times and I hope that I've reached a point that is more satisfying. It's important to mention that I'm literally writing this on the fly and I really only have three solid scenes pictured in my head. It also does not help, thatunlike most fanfictions that stick to the episode formula I've chosen to begin somewhere ambiguously. Anyways, hope that you guys enjoy this and that the wait was worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

She isn’t afraid to admit she’s a coward. As soon as she got inside her room she locked it, all the while knowing it hadn’t stopped him from sneaking in that morning. She feels like she’s on a boat seconds away from capsizing. It takes her several long moments for her to convince herself that the assassin isn’t going to magically appear. Her heart feels like it’s going at the pace of a train and with shaky hands she brings out the journal from her bag and sits at the desk. Anything to distract herself from thinking about her new boss.

 

The journal’s code is simple. Some alphabet based off a series of numbers and random symbols she had only learned from watching him write. Once she caught on and started practicing it became easy enough to figure it all out to the point that she could read it at a glance, without having to write every word out like she used to. Most of it looked normal, just lists of supplies he needed on certain dates or meetings. It was as much a planner as it was a journal, her father had never been the best at keeping things separate. She flips through it quickly, trying to find his list detailing Falcone’s hit. She flinches every time her fingers pass a page with Subject B across it in his loopy cursive. She get's her handwriting from him, too many hours spent forging his signature as well as sick notes to bring in to school. 

 

“You were an awful man. You deserve exactly what you got. I’m glad I left you in that morgue. Let them decide what to do with you.” She hisses through clenched teeth as she settles on the last filled in page.

 

The title was Dinner with the Bird. Obvious enough. Her father was never the best with creativity, no it only extended to finding new and “exciting” poisonous mixtures. And this little mix he made for Falcone was particularly interesting and she wonders why he hadn’t picked something sneakier. There was the one he called Sleeping Beauty, very hard to taste and symptoms only started hours later after consumption. A nice deep sleep followed by waking with several orifices bleeding. She had been thirteen. He gave her a laced ice cream sundae, to celebrate her birthday.

 

She tightens her grip and takes a deep breath. The faster she gets through this the faster she can abandon the journal. She dives back in.

 

Reading it didn’t take very long and at the end of the entry she feels more than a little annoyed. Falcone almost died because of some stupid little busboy. It was so ridiculous to think and she knows that as soon as she reveals this information that someone was, most assuredly, going to die. Guilt was quick to rise at the thought but she shoves it away. It isn't like she can lie about it, sure she’s the only one who can read her father’s strange alphabet and handwriting but she isn’t ready to die in order to protect anyone but her brother. Not to mention that she’s property of an assassin, Falcone’s hit man, now living with a house full of them, the second anyone caught wind of her deceit she’d be dead. No, the truth was the only option, as much as she didn’t like it.

 

Her stomach growls and she jumps, nearly dropping the journal. Shit. She still hasn’t eaten and it’s been literal hours. Getting up she tucks the stupid book under her mattress and resolves to at least enjoy some kind of snack before heading to whatever meeting she has to go to. Which brings her to her next point of concern and stress for the evening. How in the **_hell_  **is she going to remain calm during that? Her father tried to kill the man and now she’s supposed to stand in front of him, calmly? Let alone eat? No she’d much rather eat something now than try and eat anything he serves her. It would be too poetic to kill her the way her father tried to kill him.

 

The kitchen was still empty and she wonders where the girls are. The first time she had been here she had seen so many. She didn’t doubt that it had been for effect, for whoever had been there before her but still. Katja told her several girls lived her and so far she, briefly, met two of them. Carefully, she examines the fridge before settling on a cup of yogurt and moving to the humongous island to sit. She isn’t sure she can stomach anything heavier, not with her nerves the way they are. She hums and sighs as she enjoys the way food settles into her stomach. She still feels like she’s dreaming sometimes and standing in such a picture perfect kitchen dressed to the nines only enforces the thought. This is insane.

 

Two hands slam into the counter around her and she freezes, spoon halfway into her mouth.

 

“I hope you’re not spoiling your appetite before dinner.” Zsasz purrs into her ear, breath ghosting around the shell of it. She burns hot and moves herself as far away as possible in the trap he’s formed.

 

“I’m sorry.” She bites out, spine tingling with his proximity. She isn’t prepared to see him. Not so soon. Not at all.

 

“Mm. Let me have a taste. You look like you were enjoying it.” He lets out a little sigh at the end that must have been a mockery of the sounds she had been making. She wants the ground to swallow her.

 

She turns her head just enough to look at him and wonders if this is a joke. The fridge has plenty of yogurt why would he want hers? He leans forward, passing way too close her face and opens his mouth. His eyes meet hers and she swallows, mouth dry. He grins.

 

Frowning, she raises her spoon, unwilling to let him see how he much unsettles her. The spoon disappears into his mouth and rather than just take the food like a normal person he sucks on it for a moment, hollowing his cheeks just enough to make the action look perverted. Her immediate reaction is to let go of the spoon, too frazzled to keep being involved. She felt the movement through the spoon and it did awful things to her. He takes it in stride and grabs the spoon’s handle, pulling it out slowly. He follows the action by licking his lips. She zeros in on the movement far faster than she can stop it and her lips part. She’s never been jealous of a spoon before.

 

“I can see why you like it.” He coos as he goes in for seconds.

 

“Well, there’s more if you want…” The mischievous twinkle doesn’t leave his eyes as he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

 

Too close.

 

He has eyelashes.

 

“Here.” He raises the spoon to her mouth and she tenses.

 

This felt like another challenge. Something in her wants to go for it and lean forward and do exactly what he had done but the better, smarter part of her is in control. She shifts, turning to face him so he isn’t caging her in with his right arm anymore. He left an opening when he grabbed the spoon. She takes advantage of it, sliding through and away.

 

“No you’re right. I shouldn’t spoil my dinner.” She says quickly, wiping her sweaty hands on the dress. She feels like she’s melting, absolutely melting. Why is the kitchen so hot?

 

Zsasz gives her a long silent stare, face impassive, and just when she thinks she’s messed up he smiles. All teeth and mild danger as he pops the spoon back into his mouth.

 

“You’re such a good girl, (Y_N).” The compliment rolls off his tongue and she flushes, desperately taking steps further from him. He’s still too close. He sees her movement and drops the spoon to the counter with a clatter.

 

_Why does everything he says sound so...dirty?_

 

She raises herself to her full height, which isn’t much when compared to him and tries her best to take control and wrestle this conversation somewhere more familiar.

 

“I know how my father did it.”

 

She sees the gears shift in his head and lets out a sigh of relief as all the teasing and charm leaves his body. He raises an eyebrow (which he didn’t technically have) and straightens. _Tell me more_ , said his body.

 

“It’s because of an employee at the restaurant. Before the food arrived to the house, the busboy left the door to the kitchen open. Went to meet his girlfriend in the alley for a quickie. A girl which my father paid to get close. Took a while.” She fights the urge to shrug at the end, to diffuse the tension building.

 

“Seriously? All it took was some idiot trying to get his dick wet for Falcone to almost die?” Zsasz looks more than a little annoyed, all narrowed eyes and twitching hands. She winces at his crude words and he shifts and she knows with utmost certainty that he's cataloging her reaction away to revisit later. She hopes he won’t.

 

“Unfortunately some people are driven by lust.”

 

“And you aren’t?”

 

Her mouth opens and closes and he smirks. He advances towards her and she stumbles some more steps back until her back is pressed against the pantry. He reaches up and she realizes the gloves were gone. He’s always worn gloves, all the times they interacted. She closes her eyes tight as his face nears hers. His breath brushes over her lips and she whimpers. Her body feels like it’s betraying her. Still all she can think is that he’s too close. Or maybe not close enough. She doesn’t know.

 

“Tell me, what are you feeling right now.” The words are spoken into her mouth and she turns her head, desperate to get some space to clear the spinning in her head.

 

“Nothing.” The counter digging into her back has black specks in it. She starts counting them, she can’t see to many, because of the angle but it’s something.

 

_One. Two. Three._

 

He sucks his teeth and grabs her chin. Where he touches it feels like a brand. Gently, he brings her back to face him. She forces her eyes to meet his despite the feeling that staring at him at this distance feels a lot like standing too close to fire. She wants business Zsasz back, despite how scary he can be at least she can handle it. She can’t handle this Zsasz, doesn’t even have a name for what he’s doing to her or what she should call him when he’s like this.

 

“You shouldn’t lie to me, Doll. You realize that you’re **_mine_** now, right?” His hand falls from her face and settles on her throat, flexing a little when he reminds her of who they were to each other. Her body pulses.

 

“I’m not lying. I don’t feel anything.” Her heart feels like it’s about to explode, pounding so loud she’s sure he can hear it. She’s never been good at lying.

 

He tilts his head and studies her. Then he steps back and she feels like she can breathe again. Her face and neck tingle and she almost wishes he would keep touching her. He gives her a sly smile as he fixes his suit. She wonders if he can read minds. God, she hopes not.

 

“If you say so. Let’s go, meeting is taking place out of town and it takes ages to get there with traffic.” He lifts his hand, keys jingling.   
  
  


* * *

 

Traffic is terrible.

 

At first, being in a new, enclosed place had frightened her enough to not be able to focus on anything but her own ragged breathing as well as his hand which brushed against her thigh whenever he shifted gears. He looks calm, despite the fact that several cars had come close to hitting them whenever he went into the wrong lane to drive around a slower vehicle. She keeps expecting for sirens to sound but despite passing several cops no one stopped them. Zsasz is untouchable.

 

“You know...I’ve never been in a car before.” She supplies, after the silence grows almost unbearable. She can only take in so many things in the virtually spotless and impersonal car. Save for the fuzzy dice on the mirror she wouldn’t have guessed it wasn’t rented.

 

“You’re kidding.” He narrows his eyes and shifts the car into the oncoming lane again. She grips her seat until he gets to the correct lane. She’s not sure her heart can take much more of this.

 

“No. My family is from the Narrows. We walk. Can’t even afford the subway.” At one point, saying something like that would have made her embarrassed but now things like that didn’t seem so important. It’s just how things were.

 

“Well fuck, let me make this worth it then. Your first time should be special.” He shoots her a teasing look and her cheeks flame again. She wants to curse, she just started to feel normal after their encounter in the kitchen and here he is doing it again.

 

“What do you mean?”   


He didn’t respond, just shifts gears and warns her to hold on. She opens her mouth to ask again but ends up screaming as he does a rough turn and puts the pedal to the metal. Her stomach twists and she’s sure it’s just about ready to jump ship when they round the corner, tires squealing. He laughs loudly as another scream tears itself out of her throat.

 

“Relax! I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me!”

  
  
She wants to shout at him that she didn’t trust him a single bit but words were hard to find when you can’t stop yelling every time he turned or avoided colliding with a car, just barely.

 

When they finally pull into a lavish mansion driveway her entire body felt tingly. It reminds her of the last time she had fun, a carnival visit before her mother had died. A boy with red hair and a ride that was going too fast flashes to the forefront of her mind and she smiles.

 

“So?” Zsasz asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

 

“You need to have your license revoked.” She shoves the door open, feet slipping as she tries to find her balance after being tossed around like a rag-doll. She really should have grabbed onto something like he had told her to. But, still, the smile stays because that had been exhilarating.

 

“Oh that? I never got it!” He tosses the keys up into the air as he exits and she stares at him, mouth dropped in surprise.

 

 _‘He has_ **_got_ ** _to be joking.’_ She thinks.

 

“You just drove without a license! That’s a crime!” As soon as the words slip out she feels like an idiot.

 

He pauses, looking at her strangely. “You realize I did a lot more than just drive without a license?” He starts to count things off with his hand. “I crossed the double yellow lines, several times, sped about thirty over the speed limit, made several illegal turns...oh and I’m a contract killer who runs an organization of women who, also, kill.” He adds at the end while giving her what would have been an angelic smile if it had been on anyone else.

 

At a loss for words she just tugs at her clothes. He lets what he said sink in before shaking his head. “You’re very interesting, you know. You are so particular about things, come on my prudish pet. The boss is waiting.”

 

She inhales audibly at his offensive comment and takes a moment too long to follow. “I am not a prude.” She whispers when he’s far enough away.

 

“Are too!”

 

_How did he hear her!?_

  



	8. Chapter 8

 

Zsasz sitting next to her is probably the worst possible seating arrangement. Not to mention that she had expected a much more professional setting, like the fancy dining room they had passed. No instead they were outside, sitting in a gazebo. It was too obvious that the only other person they were waiting for was Falcone because there were only three seats, two of which, were occupied by them. She might throw up.

 

“You need to learn to relax.” Zsasz throws his arm out of her shoulder and she stiffens under it.“You’re so tense I could probably stick a piece of coal inside you and get a diamond in less than three days.” He tugs on a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid as he whispers into her ear.

 

“You’re not sticking anything inside of me.” She snaps, before paling because she hadn't meant to say anything but god, she was just so nervous.

 

Luckily, Zsasz finds it funny rather than rude because he laughs. “Is that a challenge?”

 

Before she can reply, she sees the back door of the house open and Falcone walks out. He’s flanked by several men and she wonders if it’s always this many or if the number increased due to her father’s assassination attempt. Or maybe it was just for her, another reminder not to step out of line.

 

“Hiya Boss.” Zsasz smiles and nods his head as Falcone climbs the steps to join them.

 

“Hello Victor. Nice to see you as always.” Falcone turns his eyes on her and her breath catches. He’s got ancient eyes, this man has seen a lot. She doesn’t even have to know who he is to see it.

 

She stands and extends her hand, years of rough teachings of etiquette forcing her to comply despite that she isn’t too fond of the idea of touching him. Someone steps forward and Zsasz huffs.

 

“She wouldn’t poison her hand, idiots. Look.” He snatches his gloves off and rougly grabs her hand. Her cheeks warm as the bodyguards step away.

 

“My apologies, they are very concerned about me, you see. Now we can leave no suspicion unchecked, you understand of course?”

 

She nods and leaves her hand hanging for a moment. Falcone’s eyes twinkle as he shakes it and she notes the strength in it. The rumors flying around about his health are nothing but that. This man may be old, but he’s sure as hell neither senile nor growing soft.

 

“It’s an honor to be here, sir.” She flatters, going back to her roots as she smiles. Pretend this is just another high maintenance customer, whether at her bar or at her father’s, she tells herself.

When she settles back into her chair Zsasz doesn’t return his arm around her but he does place it on her knee. She wants to shove him off but the movement would be to obvious so instead she reaches for her glass of water and takes a sip.

 

“Was the champagne not to your liking?” Falcone asks.

 

She takes another sip to stall for time because truth was, she only chose water because Zsasz had refused the alcohol as well. He had poured it himself, from the pitcher on the table so she had deemed it safe enough. She had even wiped the cup discretely when Zsasz hadn’t been looking.

 

“I’m not one for drinks. Having worked in a bar I saw how it poisoned people and have never had desires to try it.” She supplies finally. “Although I’m sure it’s wonderful.”

 

The hand on her knee relaxes it’s tight grip and she lets out a small sigh. She must have given a good reply. She can’t confirm it by looking at the man beside her so she can’t be too sure. Falcone motions to one of the men and after a quick radio, a waitress dressed in a stereotypical maid outfit appears with plates full of food.

 

“Sorry about the wait, I’m sure you must be hungry.”

 

She’s absolutely not so she eyes everything that’s placed on the table. Some side dishes, a plate of what looks like fish and steak, and some bread. She waits as Falcone gestures to what he wants and lets the maid serve him. Zsasz is next and he picks out fish and the potatoes. He doesn’t touch anything else and she falters when the maid turns to her. She’s afraid to touch the meat, considering that Falcone could have poisoned them separately and the bread too so she timidly asks for the salad and the potatoes.

 

“Is that all you’re getting I thought-” Quickly she grabs Zsasz’s hand which has yet to move from her knee and squeezes it as she smiles pleasantly at Falcone.

 

“A lady has keep her figure.”

 

Falcone nods but he seems amused as he glances between the two of them.

 

“Please, eat then. If you desire to have anymore, don’t hesitate to ask.” He waves the maid away and digs in.

 

Zsasz’s hand slips of her leg and she’s all too thankful for it as she picks at her food. She keeps waiting to be asked about the journal but Falcone seems unconcerned, talking over some business dealings with Zsasz, although not much detail is given. Every bite she takes settles in her stomach like lead and she fails to taste anything beyond her anxiety so as soon as her plate looks very clearly touched she stops.

She just wants this meeting to be over so they can leave, because the longer she sits the more she thinks this may have all been a set up to wait for whatever poison is in her to kick in. He could have easily laced the plate itself or the utensils, given that she didn’t have time to wipe those. He could have even laced the napkin, an idea that appears as soon as she uses it to wipe her face. Her mind races with all the ways she could have been poisoned right down to the very thought that maybe he had poisoned his ring so that when they shook hands it injected her.

 

Her legs are shaking and she clenched the fabric of her dress as the discussed the latest problem with Maroni. Zsasz leans back in his chair, having finished his plate and after wiping his hands, he casually places his left back on her leg. It’s higher, now on her thigh rather than her knee and she shifts nervously. His thumb rubs into her skin soothingly and now she’s shaking for a whole new reason. Every so often his digit runs under her dress and it’s making the comforting gesture seem very inappropriate.

 

The light comes on startling her as she jumps. It’s gotten steadily darker throughout the day, quickly in fact but it is starting to get closer to winter so the days have gotten shorter. The wind has an icy bite to it but she relishes in the feeling as it cools her heated skin.

 

“My, look at that. Another day ended, so quickly too. It’s hard to see that sometimes, that your days are passing you by faster than you notice.” His eyes settle on her heavily and she shrinks under it. He has all but ignored her once dinner started and now that it’s over she’s not sure stewing in silence is better than being forced to converse again. “Why don’t we go into my study. In my old age, it’s not good to sit out in the cold for too long.”

 

Zsasz pats her thigh and stands up, following after his boss. She takes a moment to recollect herself and the information she learned. He must mean to question her now.

 

“Doll? Coming?”

 

As if she has a choice, she thinks bitterly.

 

The study is bigger than Zsasz’s. But she’s sure he has to accommodate several people in here from time to time. It’s got a fire already going and she wishes it would go out because she feels like she’s sweating bullets as he sits down. He gestures to the seats and she perches on the very end of it while Zsasz lounges. He feels so at ease here, and she wonders if being around Falcone is something you get used to.

 

“Now, Zsasz told me that you know who did it and how.” He places his clasped hands in front of him and a recollection of a principal scolding her comes to mind. Except getting expelled is now the least of her worries.

 

She shoots a look at Zsasz who is pointedly ignoring her and she wonders if he ever bothered to tell his boss that he already knew who was responsible. She certainly didn’t want to be the messenger that got shot. Fish Mooney was a favorite of Don Falcone, and he certainly would not take the news she was about to deliver too well.

 

She hesitates but Zsasz gives her a look. She hopes that his ownership of her come with some form of protection. “Sir...It was Fish Mooney.”

 

She gulps nervously as she watches him take it in. He doesn’t look the least bit shocked at the reveal and she darts her eyes to Zsasz who has turned to biting his nails in disinterest. Although, the light in his eyes make it seem like maybe he’s just acting because when he meets her gaze it doesn’t give her the same impression.

 

“I’m well aware that she has, for some time, thought about acting out. It’s only natural for someone in power to want more and what more is there to want but what I hold.”

 

She nods.

 

“Are you absolutely positive of this, though? Because if I find out that she is not the one who ordered your father to do that...well. He’s dead but I’m told your brother is still around? How is he enjoying Metropolis?”

 

Her face pales and she snaps her eyes to Zsasz. He’s the only one who knew she sent him there. He crosses his legs and starts whistling innocently, all while refusing to look at her. Betrayal seeps into her but she’s quick to stop it Zsasz owed her no allegiance, if he told his boss she’s sure he had his reasonings. Besides, she was telling the truth. Her brother was in no danger.

 

“Sir, her man, the one who assists her in everything. He came to us, said her name. Once, when someone tried to order her poisoning, she appeared. It was her, it had to be her. She’s the last customer my father saw before….before he died.” She pleaded him to believe her with her eyes.

 

Falcone sighs and raises a hand to stop her. “I believe you. You have loyalty to your brother. And honor. Otherwise, you would have ran the second you had a change to escape and taken him with you. Instead, you remain.”

 

She grips the edge of her dress tightly as she leans forward. “Yes. Absolutely. I would die for my brother.” Zsasz shifts next to her and when she looks he’s got the most put out expression on his face.

 

“As I said. True loyalty. Now please, go on.”

 

She tells him the same story she told Zsasz, delving into more detail down to the exact time her father had slipped in, dressed as a cook, and spiked the food. The entire time Falcone takes it all in with all the impassiveness and patience of a teacher listening to a report. At the end of it all, he offers her some of the scotch he had been drinking. She takes it, feeling a lot more secure in the idea that he will not poison her. She tries to drink it like she’s seen the men do at the bar but only succeeds in making her throat burn. She coughs and her face screws up in what’s probably the ugliest expression possible. Zsasz laughs as he sips his glass and she glares.

 

“Ah, to be youthful and new to these things again. I can see why you like her.” Falcone raises his glass to her and she blushes, darting her eyes to Zsasz who has a secret smile on his lips. He nods to Falcone as he stands.

 

“If we’re done here?” He asks, tilting his head to nod at the clock.

 

“Yes, thank you for bringing her here. Goodnight you two, rest assured, your brother will sleep easy.”

 

Relief thrums through her veins and she smiles as Zsasz leads them away. “Goodnight sir.”

 

The study’s door shuts behind them and somehow it doesn't sound the same as when it shut them in for the meeting. It’s less ominous now and she feels giddy as they walk out in the fresh air. Goosebumps are quick to form but she ignores them to bask in the feeling of a great weight having been lifted. She spent all day worrying about this and now that it’s over she wants nothing more than to go home and sleep.

 

“You did good.”

 

She glances at Zsasz. He looks proud, maybe, as he opens her door. She tucks her chin and grins as she slips inside. She’s never gotten many compliments but this one feels especially nice even if it wasn’t anything special. Zsasz says she did good. She bites her lip to try and stop the big smile forming but she can’t so she just let it happen. She feels like she’s floating and so the ride back seems like a dream. She’s hardly aware of anything but the shimmering lights and overjoyed she holds a hand out, pretending she can catch the wind in her grasp.

 

She did good.

 

                           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little short but it felt like a good place to stop. Just in case you were wondering why I use third person in a reader story it's because writing using "you" bothers me somewhat. It interrupts the process of it and honestly if it was a one shot it would be no problem but I can't write for long using it. Hopefully, reading this using those pronouns doesn't ruin it for you or feel too much like an original character, which i suppose other than the name it appears like that. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!


	9. Chapter 9

Sleep is a lover the next morning. Reluctant to release her from it’s grasp. Everytime she feels close to waking she slips back under and dreams. She isn’t sure what she dreams about. Just leather and the smell of gunpowder and the glint of steel. All things that seem threatening but for all it’s negative connotations, she wakes slowly, with warmth in her heart rather than fear.

 

That is, until she realizes someone is in the room with her. She keeps her eyes closed, her breaths steady, and tries to discern who is in here. Her bed dips, weight steadily pulling her body closer to whomever has sneaked in. She’s glad she’s facing away from them, tucked into the wall because surely if she had lied any other way they would have been touching. Her bed creaks and the person shifts their weight and her breath stutters. She curses internally.

 

Fingers touch her skin and she flinches. They’re bare, and freezing against her spine. The mystery person drags them up before swirling back down. There is no pattern to it, just someone casually touching her back. As casual as it can be when they’re clearly uninvited and somehow had the ability to break into her room. And really, in a building like the one she’s in, that could be anyone. But then again, no one quite has the reason to like the person behind the touch.

 

“Doll. Wake up. I’m bored.”

 

She huffs, and refuses to turn. She knows he will be too close, much too close, if she turns to face him. Her entire body feels hot and she wonders if he realizes how intimate this is for her. She has never shared a bed with anyone beyond her brother and he had stopped soon after turning eleven. And this wasn’t them sharing a bed because one of them was frightened, this was Zsasz, coming in to...to what?

 

“And what would you like me to do about that?” She asks sleepily.

 

“Sir.”

 

“There’s no need to call me sir.” She quips, sleepily before her hand claps over her mouth, shocked that the words had left it.

 

Zsasz pauses in his touch. She waits, with bated breath, for his reaction.

 

“My, you are so funny when you’re half awake. Did you know, you said my name in your sleep?” He hums.

 

She whirls around, ripping the blanket off of them both. “I did not say your name!” The words come out a little too loud and she winces.

 

He grins and she can see he’s delighted in her reaction as he raises both hands in surrender. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” His grin widens. “Does this mean you _don’t_ want me to feed you?”

 

Her face burns and she thinks that maybe she does remember dreaming about being fed by someone who wore gloves but she chooses not to respond. Simply jumping off the bed, escaping through the side that face the door rather than climbing over the man sharing it, and stalking off into the bathroom. She loudly locks the door, even though she knows that he’d be able to unlock it with ease. She brushes her teeth perhaps too angrily because she’s flustered and has to spend extra time rinsing blood from her mouth.

 

A knock on the door makes her smack her head against the open medicine cabinet and she curses.

 

“Don’t take too long. We have business.”

 

Eyes wide she turns to face the door, like it’d offer her anymore sort of clues but already she can hear footsteps leaving her bedroom.

 

Ten minutes later, after one very quick wake-up shower, she’s downstairs. She hadn’t known what to wear, considering he hadn’t given her any details so she chose a simple deep purple dress and some soft grey leggings to go underneath it, in case he planned on taking her out into the cold day. She paired with with some sensible boots, with flat bottoms, just in case walking was in her future. Although she’s sure Tobi would wrinkle her nose at them and tell her she should have picked the heels.

 

“You did all that in ten minutes?” He raises a brow and gives a low whistle, eyeing her from top to bottom.

 

She squirms and tucks her still wet hair behind her ear. He’s sat on his counter and in his hands is a cup of yogurt. She eyes it as she walks closer, worried he wanted to play more games with her.

 

“Well, I gotta say, as nice as you look, I like the way you look just waking up more. Something about the way you wear your cute little pjs and that messy hair.”

 

She falters in her steps as she tries to desperately remember what she had worn to sleep. Normally, oversized clothes, especially in the winter. But last night she had pulled out the first thing she found which had been….tiny boy shorts and a tank top. Just about everything had to have been on display when she had gotten up. Cheeks red she goes to distract him with her questions but he’s tossing the yogurt at her and it takes everything in her to catch it.

 

“Eat. We can talk after.”

It’s as much a command as a suggestion so she pulls out a spoon and digs in. She takes small bites, very much aware that he’s watching her with all the intensity of a hawk. She feels self conscious about everything. Like the way she holds the spoon and how she puts into her mouth and how she swallows. Although, the entire time she’s doing this she feels less and less like he’s watching for some perverted reason and more like he’s just making sure she’s eating. Her brow furrows when she’s done because he pulls out a sandwich next, dragging it out from behind his body.

 

“Eat.”

 

And so she does.

 

She half expects him to magically have more food but it seems he’s satisfied with her breakfast and he hops off, motioning for her to follow. He takes her back to the office and surprisingly she spots a few girls on their way out. Tatiana is with them and she finds herself waving before she thinks anything of it. Tatiana nods, as she cocks a gun. She’s got the same blank expression she had on during their first interaction, less like she’s personally invested and more like she’s just here because she has nothing better to do.

 

The office doesn’t make her as nervous as it did yesterday, maybe because that strange man isn’t in there anymore. She sits in the chair and waits as Zsasz rummages through the papers on it. She wonders if being a hit man requires a lot of paperwork or if the piles of are because of this house and the girls.

 

“Alright, so here’s the deal. You, as is, are no use to me.”

 

She freezes, worried that he’s planning on backing out of their deal and going after her brother. She shifts and crosses her legs.

 

“So, first things first- Wipe that scared look off your face Doll- I have a schedule.”

 

She blinks, surprised as he shoves a piece of paper towards her. True to his description of it, it’s a schedule. It’s for the entire month, and she wonders if all the other girls have a schedule like this and if he makes a new one each month.

 

“You have to have three meals a day. I wrote down times that are probably best based on your general size and weight in comparison to some of the girls closer to your stats.” He waves a hand and moves on and she’s just trying to piece together how he knows her weight. “Also, I made a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow. Which is just as well because it’s around the time I have the girls go through their check-ups so she will be here around, maybe 3 o’clock. Your last doctor’s visit was,” he shuffles some papers,”three years ago. So considering your age, and the fact that your visits were less than regular after you turned eleven I have every reason to believe you’re missing vaccines.”

She gapes at him because how in the hell does he know all this? She couldn’t even get ahold of her own damn records when she tried to find her doctor, considering his practice had burned down and he had mysteriously relocated. She’s almost scared to ask, but when he pulls up what looks suspiciously like her school records she can’t hold it back anymore.

 

“How do you have all this?”

 

“I’m Victor Zsasz. I ask and people give. So I asked. Only took me this morning to gather all this, you slept in really late.”

 

“You got this in one morning!?” Her voice pitches and she feels a little bit angry at all of this. He just went around rummaging through her past and she’s terrified he’s seen something she didn’t want him to.

 

“Doll, focus with me here, I needed these things. It’s like when you adopt a kitten, you gotta make sure you grab her papers.” He says, waving a hand dismissively.She bristles at the comment but bites her lip harshly to stop from saying anything. She shouldn’t bite the hand that’s feeding her.

 

“As I was saying. Doctor’s visit. Then, you’re gonna start exercising. I have a gym here, of sorts, but you can go with Tobi if you want, to hers. She has boxing every Thursday so maybe you can learn something.” He picks up another paper, in it, is a list of exercises with even pictures. He slides it over and gives it to her.

 

“You dropped out. Which is a shame considering you were doing amazing in Chemistry. I want you to get your GED. Tutors are around on Sundays and Wednesdays so make use of them. I’ll make sure to give them a copy of your records.”

 

He keeps going on and on and for the life of her she can’t figure out why he’s doing this. It would have been all too easy on his part to just let her flounder around, and maybe just become a glorified maid. Or maybe, just have her translate her father’s recipes for him. He has no reason to enforce an eating schedule, or have her meet a doctor, or help her finish school. Tears are welling up in her eyes and she sits there, more than little overwhelmed, and lets them drip down her face.

 

He’s still talking when he looks up and spots her tears. He stops and looks more than a little pained as he twists his mouth. He opens and closes it for several minutes before sighing and reaching into a drawer. She isn’t sure what she expected him to pull out but a box of tissues certainly wasn’t it. She grabs on and delicately wipes her eyes and her nose as she tries to take calming breaths. She’s more than a little embarrassed by her show of emotions so she’s very relieved when he moves on as if she hadn’t burst into tears in front of him.

 

At the end of this meeting she has enough papers to make a book. In her hands she holds not only her life for the next month but also a sense of purpose. She had felt so lost with her brother gone. He had been her everything for the longest time. She knows that Zsasz has no idea what he has given her, when he finally releases her from his office but she leaves with a new understanding of just who the man is.

 

He’s not just an assassin, or hit man, whatever word fits best. Neither is he just the boss of several skilled women who specialize in both murder and espionage. He had no reason to do all these things, to even have a house this fancy for them. She things of Tobi and Tatiana and all the other girls she has yet to meet and wonders if they see him the same way. Less is less does he feel like the monster she had sold herself to to protect her brother and instead he becomes her savior. The man who slayed the beast she called father, who freed her from the shackles who took her brother’s form, and showed her a life where she could do things for herself. Where she could finally, finally, finish school.

 

There are tears of joy staining her list of classes she hadn’t been able to complete. She traces her finger over them and smiles.

 

This is for her.

 

* * *

 

She made dinner. Having taken lunch in her room after someone delivered textbooks to her. The man looked a little perplexed at the joy in her face but she hadn’t cared a single bit as she signed her name with a flourish, even adding a little heart at the end in her excitement. She had devoured the science one, absorbing chemical reactions like a buffet.

 

Making dinner was exciting too. The food was fresh, and none of that junk she had to buy at a discount with her poor salary. She had been overwhelmed by her options when she went down to poke through everything but now, staring at the obscene amount of food she feels the stirrings of pride.

 

“This looks amazing.” Tobi is positively enthralled and it doesn’t take someone observant to notice how eager she is to try it.

 

The smell is enough to make her mouth water and she subtly wipes it. There are people coming from upstairs and she hustles to bring out plates and cutlery.

 

“Who ordered food?”

 

“No one! New girl made dinner!” Squeals the first of them as they spot everything.

 

Tobi scowls. “How do you know I didn’t cook it?”

“Puh-lease. You burn water.” She shoulders past Tobi and gives her a look that reminds her of a puppy. “Nice to meet you, I’m Josie. Can I please try the roast?”

 

Laughing, she goes to pick up the knife when two hands appear behind her and take it. “Why don’t you let Daddy take care of this?”

She jumps and turns and there’s Zsasz giving her a smirk. He takes a deep breath and his eyes flutter at the smell of the food. The girls behind her greet him.

 

“I could have done it.” She mumbles as she moves away from him, nervous. She’s not sure how to treat him now, in light of his generosity.

 

His eyes twinkle as he starts delicately slicing. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, especially since you went through all the trouble of cooking. Guess we can tell Chef to take a hike.”

 

The girls laugh and start tossing around jokes as he places the meat on plates. Watching him, she notices the tenderness in his gaze when the girls thank him, each grabbing a plate and piling on the various side dishes she also prepared. He cares about these girls. As much as he is their employer, the way they interact leads her to think that there is a very good reason all these girls are here. It’s not like you need a manager to be a killer.

 

“Will you join us Mr.Zsasz?” Josie asks as the girls start moving on to the dining room table. It’s long, with two benches on either side as well as two rather large chairs on opposite ends. Tatiana picks one and she thinks it must be some hierarchy thing because none of the girls complain. The other is untouched. It’s more ornate than it’s partner and she thinks it must be because it belongs to him.

 

He hums before nodding, placing a rather thick strand down. At first she thinks it’s for him but he slides it over to her and claims the other. “I don’t see why not. I wasn’t planning on eating dinner at all but this,” he gestures to the food and to her,” was too tempting to pass up.”

 

He starts picking up a couple things, looking at her inquisitively. It takes a moment for it to sink in that he’s asking her what she would like. Blushing she says yes to the bread, and the sauteed vegetables. He piles on a lot more than is needed and when she tries to take her plate he moves past her. It isn’t till she’s at the table that she sees it’s so that he can force her to sit as close to him as possible. He’s already cutting her meat into little cubes by the time she forces herself to sit down, half scandalized, half amused at his treatment of her.

 

Eva reaches out grasping the hand of her neighbor and before she knows it, Tobi is begrudgingly gripping hers. Zsasz doesn’t look like he’s about to join in so she reaches across the table and meets the girl with blue hair halfway. She’s not sure what’s happening till Eva speaks up, thick accent giving her words a pleasing melody.

 

“Dear God, thank you for this meal and for bringing us a new friend. I ask that you bless this food to fuel us in the upcoming missions and for all the girls to return home, both the ones who join us here now, and for the ones who are away. Amen.” It’s simple and completely heartfelt and it leaves her completely surprised.

 

Tobi leans over as the girls let go and begin digging in. “Eva didn’t have much when she came, she was found in a brothel, lied to when she was stolen away from home. She prayed every night, and then they fucked up and Zsasz ended up over there. None of us are particularly religious but we indulge her. Don’t tell her no, if she offers to pray for you.” The warning is clear and she’s quick to nod in reply.

 

“Miss (Y/N)! This is very…” She pauses, searching for a word that must be escaping her. She tries her best to look patient as Eva struggles through at the end finally, her tongue moving too fast to cooperate with the word but she finishes it wait a radiant smile. Josie next to her gives her a compliment, telling her that her english is getting much better.

 

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if it would appeal to all of you.” She murmurs, tucking her head in as the two dozen eyes focus on her.

 

“Please, you could feed some of us garbage with sauce on top and we’d eat it.”Says the one with blue hair, stabbing a potato and sighing at the taste.

 

“Speak for yourself Violet, you’ve got the appetite of a teenage boy!”

 

With that they descend into a mess of comments and she shakes her head. The chaos is anything but mean, instead it reminds her of what she thinks being a sorority would be like. Just a lot of teasing sisterhood with no real intentions to cause hurt.

 

She turns to Zsasz who looks amused by them. He’s just about cleaned up his sides and she finds it odd that he’s left the meat for last. He catches her staring and turns, quirking up an invisible brow, curious.

 

“Is it good?” She asks, leaning forward and motions to the meat.

 

“You didn’t poison it did you.” He grabs it and pointedly bites into it. She stares a little too long at the flash of teeth.

 

“If I was going to poison you all, I certainly wouldn’t do it like this. Putting it in dishes so big is hard to calculate. What could put down little Eva would hardly touch Tatiana. You’d probably feel drowsy, at best.” She says before she can stop herself.

 

His eyes light up. “You’ve thought about it?”

 

She shrugs and picks at her bread, pulling off a piece and sinking her teeth into it. It melts in her mouth and she closes her eyes to savor it. Fresh bread has failed to make it on her shopping list for the last eight months.

 

“I can’t _not_ think about it. My father used to grill me, when we were out. Ask me how much poison I would need, what kind, why...All sorts of questions. When I was younger, before…” She trails off, eyes glazing over as she’s caught up in a memory.

 

It was before her mother died. Before all the poison in her body.

 

_“Little Flower. Would you like to play a game?”_

 

_His eyes are glowing, as he takes her hand so gently. The gentlest he’s ever been._

 

Clearing her throat she shakes her head. “It’s second nature now.”

 

He seems to take this new piece of information like everything else, cataloging it away somewhere deep in his mind. Zsasz has a way of listening that makes her think he’s got a file on her, beyond the records he showed her. It’s only a matter of whether it’s something he keeps private in his head or if it’s written down. Like a journal, a study, of his new ward.

 

“Eat.” He reminds, as one of the girls stands, offering to do the dishes. “Three meals a day.”

 

She doesn’t need to be reminded twice.

 


	10. Chapter 10

She’s half disappointed when she wakes up the next day. There is no Zsasz lying next to her. The schedule pinned to her wall reminds her of the doctor coming today and she decides that she should get started on eating breakfast. For once, she’s awake early, as revealed by the clock on her flip phone. It’s virtually useless for anything but that, seeing as she’s out of minutes and should be paying her bill soon. She should call her boss, if she could even call her that anymore, and apologize. She’s also desperate to check on her brother but knows that if there had been an emergency she would have been contacted, some way or another.

 

She pulls on something to work out in, a pair of shorts and another tank top after going to the bathroom and heads downstairs. Eva is humming over a pot, and every so often she lets out a word that is not English. At the sound of her coming closer she turns and says good morning.

 

“Hello Eva. What're you making?”

 

“Cremita! It’s very good, will you like some?” She frowns. “*Would you like some? Yes.” She reaffirms her correction and continues stirring.

 

“It smells good, so yes, please.”

 

Eva and her have a very pleasant conversation where she learns that Eva is from a tiny South American village. She thinks that Tobi perhaps exaggerated her tale, telling her that Eva was from a third-world country because Eva describes her home to be very beautiful. She doesn’t ask why she left and Eva doesn’t tell.

 

“What do you do here?”

 

Eva smiles and it’s then that she sees the danger in the tiny Hispanic girl. She shivers.

 

“Interrogation. Mr. Zsasz says I’m a protege. Besides that, spying. I’m between assignments at the moment.”

 

Then she’s back to being sweet little Eva, humming as she takes a finger and drags it through her empty plate, collecting what’s left.

 

She’s not sure why she’s bothered that Eva is dangerous. They all are, including her, considering her knowledge. She’s got enough dirt on half the city that if she wanted to, by tomorrow she could have several politicians doing her bidding. A concept that had been too tempting in her youth, once she started to decipher her father’s journal. She had ever only used it once, in an attempt to buy a way out of Gotham. The punishment she endured after a two months of peace, hidden away, was all the encouragement she had needed to never try it again.

 

She goes to the gym, after washing their dishes, alone. The various machines look daunting, especially since she only knows what a couple of them are. She settles for starting with something easy and sits on the one that looks like a stationary bike. She had one, once. It had been pink and although it wasn’t new it still held a shine that caused her schoolmates to be filled with envy. She only had the bike a month before it went missing. She wonders where it is now, as she starts to sweat.

 

She exercised for a little under half an hour, already tired and ready to climb back to bed. She wasn’t used to doing this and although she had eaten better it really only had been two days. She can't expect for two days to erase years of neglect and undernourishment. She calls it quits and showers, before grabbing her math textbook and a notebook that appeared sometime between last night and this morning after she mentioned it to Tobi at the dinner table. She’s not sure how it got here but she’s thankful because at least now she can start working on problems. Maybe, when the tutors come on Sunday, she’ll be refreshed enough not to make herself look like an idiot.

 

After a moment of deliberation she takes her things and settles into the couch downstairs. She’s determined to learn everyone’s name and get to know them and that’s impossible if she spends all her time hidden away in her room. She wishes Tobi were here but she had disappeared after dinner yesterday night, on an assignment that involved tailing someone.

 

“You’re really just going to read that and enjoy it, aren’t you?”

 

She blinks and looks up, the problem before her was just starting to make sense. It’s the girl with blue hair. She has a nose piercing now and it suits her, a little too well. Now she can’t imagine her not having one to start with.

 

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

 

“Just call me Violet.” She flips her hair and sighs, dropping down on the floor instead of any of the comfortable chairs in the living area. She’s got a math book too and while it’s not like her own she knows that she used to be excellent in Algebra. “I saw you down here and figured I’d have more fun with you. You know, when I signed up for this I didn’t realize I needed to finish high school. Should have just toughed it out my last semester because now I’m being forced to pass advanced tests instead of the remedial ones I was taking.”

 

“Well...if you want, I can help.”

 

Violet smiles.

 

* * *

 

They work together for a long time and she cherishes every second of it. She didn’t have many friends in school and having Violet join her reminds her of everything she wishes she had during her years there. She learned that Violet is nineteen and that Zsasz picked her off the streets when she tried to break into his car. She’s got notorious sticky fingers apparently, something he’s taken to hone because according to her, “there’s nothing I can’t steal.”

 

She feels like she’s starting to notice a pattern here. That maybe Zsasz goes around collecting women like some people collect strays. She wonders who was the first and whether he decided to keep going based on conscious thought or if one day he just realized he had too many to keep in his own house and eventually just bought up and remodeled this place. Or if maybe this place existed first and he went out and brought them home to be involved in some sort of secret organization, like those comics her brother read.

 

“Right, so that means...that x equals 7?”

 

She grins and nods eagerly. “Correct!”

 

Violet laughs, reaching over and tugging her into a hug. She stills, surprised but lets herself sink into it. Violet is warm, and she smells exactly like smoke, a scent she’s grown used to in the bar. It brings her comfort and she lets out a small sigh when they part, trying to act like the hug wasn’t a big deal.

 

Violet goes to speak but the clicking of heels makes her pause. They turn in unison to face the door. Violet reaches into her pocket, tensing and it isn’t till Katja appears, wearing a slim black dress, that she realizes Violet was reaching for a weapon. Startled, she stands moving to sit back on the couch where her own work lied abandoned in favor of helping her new friend.

 

“Dr.Lennon is here. I will get the rest of the girls.” Katja states simply before moving away.

 

Violet grumbles about Katja’s frosty attitude before going into the main room. She remains for a moment, wondering if she should follow before Violet calls her name and makes the decision for her.

 

“No one but us are allowed back here.”

 

Oh.

 

The door slides shut behind them and her eyes fall to the throne that still stands there, imposingly. Zsasz isn’t in there and she sucks in her bottom lip, disappointed. She won’t say that she misses him. She barely knows him, beyond the information she’s managed to gather. But still, she’s gone almost an entire half of the day and considering their track record of wake up calls she feels odd. Like he missed an appointment. Shaking the thought off she decides to study the doctor, who is already running through her checklist with Violet.

 

The doctor is tall, with dark skin and blinding white teeth that give her a comforting smile. So unlike her old doctor, who was essentially as old as the calendar with the distinct feel of a grandfather. She isn’t sure if this means she’s more or less comfortable. She instructs Violet to bend, so she can check her spine and her mind instantly goes to Zsasz and his wandering fingers. If she thinks hard enough, she can feel the ghosting of a pattern. She thinks he was spelling something out but unless he does it again she’d have no way to be sure.

 

“All done. Your weight is good, and you’ve been keeping your sugar steady. A definite improvement from the last time I saw you.”

 

She raises an eyebrow, confused about why Violet’s sugar was important. The blue haired girl sees the question on her face and gives her a shrug. “I’m diabetic. I fainted a month ago and she told me to get my shit together.”

 

Dr.Lennon shakes her head. “I didn’t use those exact words but sure. I’m glad you’ve got it handled.”

 

Then Dr.Lennon sets her sights on her. She’s not sure what she should do or say because in about two seconds this stranger is going to get pretty personal with her. She shifts nervously as Violet goes to lounge on a bench, laying across it in an over dramatic fashion as she bemoans all the sweets she’s had to swear off. Dr.Lennon seems amused by all of it and just shakes her head at the teen.

 

“Now, Mr. Zsasz told me about you. Gave me a copy of your records and it seems to me that you missed a shot going into high school, your freshman year?”

 

She nods because she remembers she spent most of the year trying not to not die from blood loss, going as far as stealing iron supplements like that would have helped any. She didn’t go to a doctor again for the rest of high school. Only reason she went three years ago with a record to show for it was because she caught a bad bug that wouldn’t go away without antibiotics. Didn’t help that her father kept slipping Kepone into her food, making her vomit anything she managed to swallow. That was a bad month.

 

“Yes. I did.” She doesn’t elaborate but Dr.Lennon doesn’t pry. Just starts taking vitals like her blood pressure and checking her heart. She is also weighed and she grimaces at the way the woman pauses. She’s gained five pounds, if she’s not mistaken. But still the numbers are dreadfully low for her height.

 

“What was your diet like? Before coming here?”

 

She hesitates, afraid to answer because now the other girls are filing in and settling out around the room. “Just junk...whatever was cheapest at the store. Cup noodles...frozen things. I didn’t have a lot of money.” She whispers, voice cracking. “When I went to school, I got breakfast and lunch for free but then I quit…”

 

If Dr.Lennon had been any other woman, there would be pity in her eyes. Instead her frowns and adopts a look that resembles a pissed off teacher. “Your father was a professional poisoner.”

 

She shrugs. “He liked to gamble.” He always had men over on Thursdays. They’d bet insane amounts of money, always making her feel especially bitter when all she had eaten in days was water.

 

Violet scoffs and shakes her head. “I’m glad Zsasz killed him. The more I hear about the bastard the more I hate him.”

 

“Violet!”

 

She shakes her head at Eva, silently telling her that she’s not offended by Violet’s words. Her father dying is nothing to be sad about.

 

“Alright then. He’s got you on a schedule now, right? Make sure you eat at those times, they will be the best to make sure your body is digesting correctly. Lots of proteins and carbs to help gain weight but do make sure you’re exercising too. Nothing excessive, just so that when you start finding those pounds that they don’t turn to fat.”

 

She nods, trying to memorize the instructions she’s being given as she bends for her spine to be checked. She still feels odd about there being so many in the same room as her but she supposes that if this is how it’s done then there’s no reason to be anxious. Many of them are just talking, Tatiana is holding a black book, and Violet has turned her attention to picking on Josie for the new bangs she cut herself. They’re crooked but on her they look charming. No one is looking, which she’s thankful for when Dr.Lennon abruptly starts checking her breasts.

 

She’s uncomfortable to say the least and doesn’t feel a single bit better when she’s told that they’ll grow as she gains weight. Her figure has always been at the back of her mind but lately, she’s been painfully reminded that she should have the body of a woman, not some girl who’s yet to go through puberty.

 

“Nothing to note there, no unusual pains right?”

 

She shakes her head in response.

 

“Perfect.” A smile. “So, are you on any birth control?”

 

She fumbles, as she’s led to a seat, completely blindsided by the question.

 

“Birth control? For what?”

 

She raises an eyebrow at her as she readies a needle.

 

“Well, period regulation is the reason I take it. Not like my wife can get me pregnant.” She jests as she stabs her arm without warning. She flinches but it’s over quick and a band-aid with cute hearts is being slapped on.

 

“Oh.”

 

She wonders if her wife is a doctor as well. That would be interesting. Or maybe she’s a nurse and that’s how they met. Oh, or a patient. She’s desperate to ask her how she knew she was in love, to find out if the way her father treated her mother was how all couples acted or if it was just something singularly unique to them. She’s never met anyone who’s truly been in love and she just knows that Dr.Lennon is irrevocably in love with her wife. Her eyes say it all, twinkling at the brief mention.

 

“Yes, and I know that some women take it because they’re not ready to get pregnant yet and still want to have sexual freedom, since condoms are not always a 100% effective.” She turns her expression stern. “That does not mean you shouldn’t make sure whoever you’re with isn’t wearing one. Condoms are the only thing other than abstinence that can save you from sexually transmitted diseases and infections.”

 

All the information is as well received as anything and she briefly recalls an older classmate showing her a condom she had stolen off her brother. It had been passed around in the locker room, all of them giggling with the knowledge that they were holding something meant for adult activities. Then, their coach had walked in and it had been flung, to be forgotten among the mysteries behind the lockers.

 

“Condoms, always. Got it.” She bites her lip. “I haven’t had my period in over three years though. It was never that regular when I got it either.” It had been, for a brief three months when she had first gotten it. Then, the experiments began and her weight dropped.

 

“Well, that’s a cause for concern. We’ll have to see if that changes, or if maybe something’s wrong with your ovaries. That could be problematic if you want children in the future.”

 

Children? She never thought farther than her brother going away to college. Once he was gone, her life just blanked. Becoming a white void in her head. She isn’t even sure she wants them, having spent so long raising her brother when she was only a child herself. She just wants to enjoy the future Zsasz has given to her.

 

“You do want them don’t you?”

 

* * *

 

 

Her arm is sore from the shot. She wants desperately to lie on her side but every time she tries a dull pain fills her. Sleep is a cruel mistress tonight, angry with her. It does not come and her mind supplies her with a growing list of worries as the hours drag on.

 

She didn’t see Zsasz all day.

 

Tobi is still gone.

 

Her phone still does not work.

 

She hasn’t heard from her brother.

 

He’s probably still mad.

 

Her ovaries are probably jacked to shit.

 

What if she wants kids?

 

She sighs and runs a frustrated hand through her messy hair. Dr.Lennon had chosen to not give her any medicine, birth control or not, just because it may further mess with the chaos inside her body. She’s scheduled a hospital visit into her free day next week where they can run extensive tests on her then. She’s not sure how she will get there. She adds that concern to the list.

 

She needs water. Her throat is dry and swallowing is not doing anything to alleviate it. Sighing she slips out of bed and wishes the kitchen wasn’t down two flights of stairs. She’s going to start having to bring a cup up with her if the insomnia has chosen to return. She shouldn’t have taken the blissful sleep she’d been getting for granted. You never know what you have until it’s gone, or so they say.

 

The kitchen has the stove light on, thankfully and she uses it to guide her to the fridge seeing as there are no more movement lights to guide her way. She’s just taking her first sip, the water barely touching her lips when a dark figure catches her attention from the corner of her eye. The glass drops, and mercifully does not break. She’s already reaching for the knife holder, grabbing the biggest one and yanking it out by the time they step closer and she realizes who it is.

 

“Is that any way to say hello to Daddy?” He takes it from her, not even bothering to grab the handle, just grasping the blade and pulling it gently from her hand. “Although you are _dripping,_ so it isn’t so bad I suppose.” He gives her a smile and tilts his head, using the knife to gesture at her soaked front.

It’s then, that she realizes she’s dressed in a white shirt, and as baggy as it is, it’s now plastered to her and frankly, she’s not wearing any sort of bra. She tries her best to nonchalantly bring her arms up, using them to shield the reaction her body is having to the chilly water.

 

“You startled me.”

 

His eyes glint as he bends down to grab her cup. He glances at her bare legs before looking up at her and she’s struck by how attractive he looks in this soft lighting. His eyelashes leave the sweetest looking shadows on his cheek bones and her mouth feels drier than it did when she dragged herself down here.

 

“It’s what I do.” He says, setting the cup down behind her, purposely brushing against her as he does so.

 

She shivers. He’s much warmer than she is now. “So it seems.” She replies coolly, trying to maintain an unaffected facade although she’s extremely pleased to see him. She had just started to worry, thinking he’d gone and gotten arrested or worse, killed.

 

“What’re you doing down here? Had nightmares and wanted to crawl into my bed?” He taunts as he puts the knife back.

 

“You sleep here?”

 

He gives her a look like she had just asked the stupidest question.

 

“I have a bed. That is in my room. So no actually, I drive an hour and a half to go sleep at Falcone’s. Traffic is bad, ya know.”

 

He grabs an apple off the fruit bowl. Do the apples exist merely to make people appear more snarky as they sass her here?

 

“Well, I just figured...I didn’t see your room.” She mumbles, tugging on her shorts.

 

“Do you want to?” He asks, eyes growing brighter at the prospect.

 

Flustered, she blurts out the first thing she can think of. “I’m not on any birth control.”

 

He looks a little lost at first, but then his grin widens. Horrified, she takes a step back before turning and fleeing.

 

Water be damned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day! I'm on a roll! Hopefully it's not too boring because I'm trying to establish some things and frankly, as much as I love writing interactions between Victor and reader, his life is very busy. He can't be around to tease for forever! Let me know your thoughts about this, I love reading comments and they always make me feel encouraged to write more.


	11. Chapter 11

Zsasz is gone for the next week. 

 

She’s both relieved and on edge. She’s not sure how she’s going to face him after what she said to him. 

 

“I’m an idiot.” She drops her head against the textbook, thumping it loudly. 

 

“God, if you’re an idiot then I have no idea what I’m supposed to be.” Violet scoffs, throwing her pencil down angrily. 

 

“Girls.” The tutor gives them a warning glance, peeking out over her raunchy corner store book. 

 

She’s not entirely sure why someone would read about, what looks like a fish man, fall in love with a girl who resembles a Miss America-wanna be but apparently she’s not supposed to ask. Not even to inquire if the book is any good. Which is a shame because Madame, as she likes to be called, is devouring it. 

 

“Whatever. I’m failing this.”

 

She reaches over and rubs her friend’s shoulder soothingly. She doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she finished her test ages ago and had only kept it on her desk because she didn’t want to make her feel nervous about being slow. Eva looks equally troubled too, muttering under her breath as she scribbles like a madman onto her paper. It’s a spelling test, but some of the words on there she’s sure she’ll never use in normal conversation. She, herself, barely knows what half of them are supposed to mean. 

 

“Violet, please do try. We studied really hard.” She whispers, glancing at Madame worriedly. She doesn’t want to get told off. 

 

“Numbers and I just don't agree.”

 

Tobi cackles from behind her. “You say that about everything. History, Literature, Etiquette. This is why Zsasz doesn’t send you to the fancy parties, you wouldn’t be able to pass for a high born lady even if you had a fairy godmother!”

 

Violet snarls already halfway out of her seat and reaching to grab at Tobi. Who seems just as ready to brawl because she’s hopped on top of the table and is currently shouting at Violet. 

 

“Ladies! Please don’t make me get Mr. Zsasz.”

 

It was like a magic switch had been flipped because the girls just stopped, bottoms slamming back down in seats with pretty perfect smiles in place. 

 

“Just you wait.” Violet says between gritted teeth. “I’m going to tear you in half.”

 

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my Gucci boots over here, sis.” Tobi snarks as she returns to her analysis. 

 

Blinking, she decides she better head out. The clock on the wall is starting to get close to her appointment time and the hospital is a bit of a walks away. She gathers her papers, depositing them on the tutor’s desk. She doesn’t even glance up from her book. 

 

“Where are you going?” Tobi asks.

 

“I have an appointment.” She calls over her shoulder.

 

The streets are just as lively as always. A lot of people think New York is the city that never sleeps but she’s sure that it can’t hold a candle to Gotham. This place is restless, like an addict. She lets the stream of people swallow her as she heads to the direction of Gotham General. It’s really probably not the best hospital, considering the amount of times she’s gone in before her recurring visits were flagged as a concern. After which she was forced to go to the clinics in the Narrows which just barely kept her going. She supposes it was good that she started to build up a resistance, if not damn near immunities, to some of the things her father gave her. 

 

It’s strange, knowing that once again she’s going to a hospital. It really was the only place she went to, outside of the Narrows. And even then, she only showed up because she had a reaction at school or out on the streets. Her brother only called 911 once, and her father had made sure it never happened again by ripping the landline from the wall. That had been a terrible night for everyone. 

 

Gotham General brings a stirs strange emotions in her. Seeing it again, as she stands outside, discomforts her. So many times she wished to die in its arms, or for someone to save her. It would be too soon if she never set foot in there again. And yet, she’s here. Shaking her head she walks in, heading straight to the counter. 

 

“Name please.” The nurse has a bored look on their face as they check her out. Once it’s apparent she’s not bleeding or dying they gesture for her to wait in a chair. 

 

It’s uncomfortable and that doesn’t change as time goes on. An hour later, if her phone is to be believed, she’s being escorted into a room. A13. Interesting considering it was the same hospital room her first time here. It still looks the same, but then again, all of them look the same. 

 

“Now, Dr.Lennon told me some bits and things about your past. Says you had a childhood history of illness that you fear has interacted negatively with your reproductive system?”

 

She nods. “That, yes. But maybe other things as well? Dr. Lennon just focused on that because my period has been gone for three years.”

 

The doctor nods, typing away at the tablet in his hands. She’s a little uncomfortable with this man, he’s young, probably fresh out of med school. He’s also handsome with hair that swoops slightly at the top and dimples that show whenever he smiles. 

 

“Alright. Let’s run some blood tests, and maybe do some scans. I’m gonna have a nurse do an exam on your bottom half, seeing as Dr. Lennon gave me the impression you’d feel more comfortable with a woman doing that?” He trails off and at her hesitant expression he continues.“It’s no problem, a lot of women feel like that. Especially since your records show you never went to a gynecologist.”

 

She shrugs. Why anyone needed to check that regularly when she wasn’t even active made no sense to her. Just another waste of money. She dreads to think about what the medical bill is going to look like after this visit. 

 

“Okay, and…” He types some more. “How do you feel about peeing in a cup for me?”

 

* * *

  
  


This is probably the most invasive day of her life. She wants people to stop touching her. She’s seen about a dozen strangers come and go from her room and she’s tired of the stupid gown she’s wearing and she’s tired of being here. It’s been forever, waiting for her results. She’s not even sure what they’ve found with her pee and part of her thinks about how amusing it would be if it came back positive for pregnancy. Like some modern Virgin Mary. That would most definitely be something. Although, there’s absolutely no chance for that. 

 

The window to her room has the blinds drawn and she curiously watches as two doctors argue. They’re waving hands around and one of them as a paper in their hands. Abruptly, they seem to become aware of her staring because they walk off. She lays her head back onto the raised bed, placing clasped hands on her stomach. It’s cold in here. She wishes she had a blanket. 

 

The door opens. 

 

“So, Miss (L/N), we have contacted your guardian to go over a few things with them regarding your situation. They should be arriving any moment now.”

 

Confused, she rises, raising a hand to stop the doctor. “What do you mean guardian? My father is dead. Besides, I’m twenty-three.”

 

The doctor pauses, looking a bit uneasy as they grip their clipboard. “Well, I was told to contact the number on the paper that Dr. Lennon sent if anything came up that was a concern. And well, there were a lot of things.”

 

“Like?” She presses, blood draining from her face. Was two weeks not long enough for whatever was last in her system to leave?

 

“Yes, like what.”

 

The doctor jumps, clipboard clattering to the floor. 

 

Zsasz stalks in, ripping off his gloves and tucking them away in his coat pocket. He looks agitated, and he paces the room like a lion. She thinks that there’s blood on his cheek. Neither her nor the doctor mention it. 

 

The ease the doctor had before has disappeared now as they shakily retrieve the clipboard and begin shuffling through the pages there. 

 

“Well, her blood is very curious. The antibodies in it are remarkably high, her immune system is insane. I’ve never seen anything like it before--”

 

“So she can’t get sick, big deal. Why did you call.” Zsasz’s mouth settles into a thin line and she shudders.

 

“Well it’s not just that, there’s something in her. High levels of cardiac glycosides.” At their blank looks he rephrases. “She’s got a substance in her, it’s more well known by the name Lily of the Valley. Symptoms usually are nausea, vomiting, abnormal heart rhythms, etc.”

 

She grows paler the longer he goes on, shutting her eyes tightly. 

 

“Thing is that’s not all that’s in there. Some sore of venom maybe, meant to paralyze and cause lots of pain. I honestly have no idea how she’s even walking around.” The doctor laughs but stops when neither of them join. 

 

She grips the blanket tight, feeling like her head is spinning. She didn’t want Zsasz in here. She wants him gone, unaware of the freakshow her life is. She just wants to lose herself in the new one being handed to her on a silver platter and now all of this mess is being dragged out into light. Like a body she should have probably burned rather than buried. 

 

“A-And...and I looked her up, to see if she had been here before and well. There’s so many visits it crashed the system for a bit. It’s weird cause it’s like from one year to the next she disappeared. I have no idea why there was never any follow ups with her.”

 

She swallows painfully. 

 

_ Please shut  _ **_up_ ** _.  _

 

He has no idea what he’s doing. Zsasz shouldn’t know. Can’t know that her father did a lot more than just poison strangers for money. He’d throw her away, she’s broken. She won’t ever be strong enough to be part of the Zsaszettes. Won’t even be okay after all the fucked up shit her father pumped into her body. He’s going to leave her here, in this hospital. She just knows it. 

 

“Leave.”

 

The doctor flounders, nearly dropping his clipboard again. 

 

“Do I need to repeat myself?  **_Leave!_ ** ” 

 

The doctor flies out of the room, a petrified look on his face. 

 

Zsasz is very quiet after that. Just glares down at the floor, a murderous expression on his face. She draws her legs up to her chest, tears watering in her eyes. 

 

_ Just say it already. Say you’re through with me.  _

 

“Did he do that to you?” His voice is deceptively calm, because Zsasz looks seconds away from blowing up.

 

Her entire body is trembling and she’s not sure she can trust her voice. She wants to lie, so, so bad. She can’t though. This is Victor Zsasz. Lying to him is harder than trying to kidnap the president. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

He takes a shuddering breath, dragging it in like it’s something bitter. The monitor connected to her is beeping fast. Too fast. 

 

“How long?” The blood on his face is smeared as he drags a hand across it. It stands out, too bright against the paleness of his skin. His jaw is clenched, a tick appearing from the force of it. 

 

She glances to the side, willing the tears to go away. She can’t cry in front of him like this. Before it had been joy, appreciation. This is just cold solid dread. It sits in her stomach worse than any poison ever did. 

 

“Since I was thirteen.” She wipes at her nose with her wrist.

 

“You were just a kid.”

 

She shrugs.“It was either me or my brother.” Admitting it hurts a little, in light of the recent happenings. 

 

She flicks her eyes to him, wary of his reaction. His nose flares a little bit and his expression looks tortured although she’s not sure why. Maybe guilt, because he’s going to abandon her here. “I struck a deal. I took everything and he left my brother alone.”

 

His entire face darkens and suddenly, she’s very sure that seeing Victor Zsasz angry is something that most people don’t come out alive from. Her heart rate ticks up another notch. 

 

“I should have killed him  **_slower._ ** “ He grinds out, angrily smashing his fist into the wall. “I should have taken his stupid poison and made him swallow it. Should have stripped him down and whipped him and bathed him in acid.” He’s seething at the end of it all, chest heaving as he watches the blood drip from his hand. 

 

Her heart thuds in her chest as she watches him work through his rage. It takes several deep breaths for him to straighten, becoming the collected man she knows once again. Finding comfort in this she relaxes. 

 

“I’m glad you killed him.” She says, quietly, to break the silence. 

 

He looks up. His lips quirking up at the edges. “Is that so?”

 

“It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

* * *

 

Zsasz takes her out for ice cream. She picks vanilla with fudge, relishing in the simple taste. She moans because she can’t remember the last time she had ice cream, let alone somewhere this cute. The diner is retro, with little booths and a bar and even a jukebox. Right now, some funny little song about disco is playing, and although she’s sure most of the patrons would rather listen to anything else, Zsasz having been the one to pick it is enough of a deterrent. 

 

“I told you to pick whatever you wanted and you go with that, really?”

 

She frowns at his judgemental tone, licking the rapidly melting desert off her hand. 

 

“I like this. I don’t know what anything else tastes like.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “Your lack of experience with anything is ridiculous, come here.”

 

He doesn’t give her much choice, practically shoving a spoonful of his Neapolitan banana split into her mouth. It melts in the heat of it and she closes her eyes, savoring the taste of it. It  _ was  _ good. Really good. 

 

“See? There is more to the world than just plain vanilla.” He smirks, like he’s telling her a joke except she doesn’t get it at all. 

 

“Whatever. Vanilla is great. Was my mom’s favorite. She used to make it at home.” She says casually before she can stop herself. Heart growing heavy, making the ice cream feel a little less appealing now at the mention of her late mother.

 

“Your mom sounds interesting.” He tilts his head. 

 

“She was more than interesting. She was amazing. Nobody in the world could have been as wild nor as beautiful as her.” Her eyes grow starry as she thinks of her mom, dancing in their shabby apartment, the one before the last. It had been much nicer, with a weird disarray of furniture that had not come together and yet still fit perfectly. Her eyes start getting misty so she wipes at them, aggressively biting into her cone to hide the emotions brewing in her. 

 

“Hm. My parents were boring.”

 

At that, curiosity rises in her. She knows virtually nothing about her new boss (owner?). “What were they like.”

 

The look he shoots her says he knows exactly what she’s doing, turning the subject onto him. Luckily, he humors her. 

 

“They were well off. Then they died. Now I do this.”

 

“Wow, both our parents are dead.” She states, casually before the filter can stop it.

 

“That they are, that they are Doll.” He smiles, albeit a little thinly, and gestures for her to finish the ice cream. 

 

“You know, I can’t believe this is vegan.”

 

He shrugs. “I’m thinking about getting into it.”

 

She raises an eyebrow. “Does killing animals bother you?”

 

His face forms a surprised look, taking an almost comical effect, as his eyes widen. “Why yes! It’s barbaric.”

 

She laughs. “That’s rich coming from you.”

 

“Hey now, do you want me to pay or not. Hurry up and eat it before it melts. You’re going to get dirty.” He tosses a napkin at her. “And as much as I’ve thought about you being sticky, I’m not sure I imagined it in this exact scenario.”

 

Shocked, she drops the cone, letting it splat on the counter. “Zsasz!”

 

“Mm, that’s my name, don’t wear it out.” He teases, licking his spoon clean. “Although, I’d like for you to try my first, bet it’d sound real sweet coming out of your mouth.” 

 

“Maybe in your dreams.” She stands abruptly to go rinse off the ice cream that got on her clothes, glad for the excuse to leave the table for a moment. 

 

“Oh no Doll, in  **_your_ ** dreams.” He laughs. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went back and fixed a couple of things, apparently I changed Lucy's name to Violet later on so I changed it from the first mention of miss blue hair. Also fixed the tense because honestly that was a mess. Not a lot has changed, so you probably dont need to re-read anything. 
> 
> Also, don't know how I feel about him finding out, whether it's too soon or if I should have waiting. Maybe this is all rushed because I'm tired and still stick since I spent all of yesterday throwing up. Not fun but hey maybe I can use it for writing experience. Anyways, please let me know if you like this and honestly if anyone hates it I'll probably do a rewrite.


	12. Chapter 12

Her grades are amazing. Nothing below a C and she can’t believe it. She spent most of her school fighting through it with most of her assignments falling to the bottom of her priorities. Now, that she’s got a solid place to sleep and solid meals it’s like everything just comes to her, with little to no struggle.

 

Grinning, she pins the test papers to her cork board, stepping back to admire them. She’s more than a little giddy and she wishes she had someone to show off to. Her hand reaches for her phone before it registers that even if she had someone to call that she’s yet to pay her bill. She went to the bar yesterday and got the last bit of her paycheck, so maybe she should do that today. Although she’s got lunch plans, which she’s actually late for.

 

Lunch plans.

 

She’s never had those before.

 

“Here we go.” She twirls, giving herself a once over. She’s wearing a shirt she bought last week with Tobi, a much cuter version of her old band t shirts. It fits better too, in her size plus the added weight is starting to show. Pretty soon, she’ll have to start looking for new pants.

 

She snags her ID, which she also got last week from Katja. Apparently, the girls use a side entrance that lets them skip the entire office part of the building. Everything here is so weirdly professional, and everyone seemed to work in a strict routine. Half the time she had no idea who was home and who wasn’t. In fact, just yesterday a round of girls had appeared, back from a trip in Italy. Which meant she had even more names to learn.

 

She had a list, with names and likes and dislikes as well as where she thought she stood with them. Josie, Violet, Tobi and Eva all had hearts next to them along with several little tidbits she thought important to remember. Tatiana was still as much of a mystery as Zsasz was sometimes, and the most she got out of her was a book recommendation after a very one sided conversation. She had three more names all of which were just as aloof as Tatiana.

 

“Where were you?”

 

“Sorry Josie!” She gives her sheepish smile as they start a brisk pace for the cafe.

 

“I thought I was going to starve waiting for you.” Josie hooks her arm through hers, dragging her to meet her much faster pace.

 

“But I made you breakfast. You had three plates.”

 

“That was ages ago, I’m a growing girl.”

 

She shakes her head. Josie was her age, and despite her thin looks, she could eat enough to put anyone to shame. She’s mostly a messenger, although Josie can pack a punch. She’s the worst sparring partner to have, now that she’s started. Even Tobi is gentle with her when she’s practicing, and she’s a boxer.

 

She rubs at a bruise on her shoulder as they come up  on their destination. It’s got soft music playing and when they enter she sees that there’s a young boy, around fourteen, playing the violin.

 

“Oh shit, he actually did it.” Exclaimes Josie, who runs forward, still dragging her, to drop some cash into his tip bowl. They boy smiles at them before becoming engrossed in his music again. It’s evident that he loves what he’s doing.

 

They order two smoothies, sandwiches, and she splurges on two tiny adorable cakes to enjoy. A month ago doing something like this would have seemed ridiculous and excessive but now, sitting here, she can’t imagine having to go back to that life. She thinks back to Zsasz, after their hospital visit.

 

_“Soon. I’m going to give you a mission.”_

 

She peers around her, wondering what her first assignment is going to be. Eva’s was straight up torture, with one of the men who had held her hostage, while Violet’s was to steal something personal for Zsasz to use for intimidation purposes. Tobi had to shoot someone. What will she do? Could she do that? Kill someone?

 

She stares at the boy, wondering if she could kill him. Then her eyes go to the couple enjoying a day out, she’s pregnant. Could she kill them? Or the woman, alone, reading a book? Is she really capable of killing any of them?

 

A man walks into the cafe. He looks jittery, nervous and she zones out of her and Josie’s conversation about the band they both like. He’s giving the store obvious glances and it becomes apparent that aside from some young women, the couple, and a kid, there’s no one else. Then he pulls out a gun.

 

“Get on the floor now!”

 

She falls without a second thought, yanking Josie down with her. The very pregnant woman struggles, already sobbing.

 

“Give me all your valuables and nobody has to die. You, behind the register, get the cash going.”

 

“I can’t let this happen.” Josie whispers, reaching into her purse.

 

The man swings his gun at them and she puts her hands up, bile rising in her throat.

 

“Josie, stop it. I’ve seen people die at these types of things.” Her heart is racing and she wants more than anything to keep her new friend from getting shot in this too nice cafe in this too nice part of town. These things shouldn’t keep happening to her, but this is Gotham. Gotham doesn’t give a shit if it’s a nice part of town.

 

“You two! What are you whispering about.” The man’s eye twitches.

 

“Sorry! My tampon fell out.” Josie does her very best to look embarrassed. “Do you mind if I go to the restroom? I’ll give you my bag?”

 

The robber looks at a loss, completely frazzled as he watched Josie slowly stand. After a moment he nods. “Fine, toss the bag here.”

 

Josie gives him the prettiest smile, as she grabs her purse, tossing it towards him. In the split second it takes for him to catch it she’s got a gun out too, and shoots him twice. The man falls, still alive, but cursing and bleeding profusely now.

 

Josie sneers, walking towards him, stabbing the end of her pointy heel into his stomach. “If you **_ever_ **come near my cafe again I will string you up on the sign like the pig you are. Got it?”

 

The man whimpers, nodding quickly as she starts to draw blood with her heel.

 

Josie perks up, “Good. Get out.”

 

The man crawls out the door, before pulling his feet back under him and running. There’s already sirens sounding as pedestrians call it in. She turns to face the woman and reaches her hand out. She’s blonde with green eyes.

 

“Are you okay?” She asks, as the woman shakily pulls herself together.

 

“Yes. Thank you.” She takes her hand and rises.

 

“Is there someone I can call for you?” She whispers, as she hears Josie consoling her violin friend and the couple.

 

“No. I’m okay. I’m Liza by the way.”

 

“Well, considering the circumstances I can’t say it’s nice to meet you but still. My name is (Y/N).”

 

The woman smiles. “Really unfortunate I know.”

 

She bends down to retrieve the book for the woman, pausing when she realizes the book is on hens. A weird choice.

 

“Oh, it’s my boyfriend. He really likes them.” She smiles but something about is thin.

 

Liza is hiding something. But they’re strangers so it’s not like it matters. But still, curious interest for a man who can’t be much older than the two of them. That’s usually something older men get into.

 

“Well, to each their own.”

  
  
  
  


Josie is more than a little happy when they get home.

 

“I can’t believe they gave me free meals for life! I make up like 75% of their clientele.”

 

“A mistake on their part. You’re going to eat the entire menu every time you go.”

 

She pouts as she heads to the weapons room. “If it wasn’t for my next assignment starting in two minutes, I would so challenge you to a match.”

 

“You’d kick my ass.” Her entire body aches at the mention of another sparring session with Josie.

 

“Exactly.” Josie grins as she walks out the door.

 

She shakes her head, making her way back up to her apartment. She has an essay to work on. Plus, she’s got boxing tonight with Tobi. The door to her room is slightly ajar and she frowns, pausing.

 

If it hadn’t been for living within Zsasz’s palace of assassins she would have worried more about break ins, or worse, some of her father’s past associates coming after her. Her first week she had worried one of the girls might do her in but after learning all their assignments are approved through Zsasz first she knew it’d have to be seriously personal for that to happen. Her hand slips into her pocket, slipping it out a small blade. Gun training starts tomorrow. The knife is all she has.

 

Now, should she go for the element of surprise?  


Weighing her options she knows it’s her best bet. She’s not strong, nor is she any better with her fighting than she was when she got here. The door flies open as she shoves through, wildly aiming the knife at the person’s back, hoping for the best.

 

It sinks and when the person grunts she becomes aware of the familiar bald head and suit.

 

Fuck.

 

“Well damn. Hello to you too, Doll.”

 

He grips it and drags it out with a smooth motion. Wincing she steps in and tentatively closes the door.

 

“I’m really sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. You’ve gotten better at this.” He tosses the knife at her and she barely catches it, careful to not slit her palm on it.

 

“Eva has been showing me. She really likes knives.” She sputters as she pushes him onto her bed, watching as a dark spot forms where the blood is pouring out.

 

Zsasz nods as he brings bloody fingers up for inspection. Nervously she rushes forward, pulling the emergency kit she had out from her dresser and tugging on his suit.

 

“Frisky today, aren’t you?”

 

She ignores him as she inspects the cut. The shirt is ruined, red soaking into the white of it and she wonders why today of all days he’s choses white to go under his black suit jacket. It really just is her luck.

 

“First the gunman and now this.” She says under her breath, shaking her head as she grabs the shirt and rips the hole a little wider.

 

“What gunman? Also, you know this shirt cost like two hundred dollars right?”

 

She blanches, pouring a little too much alcohol into the wound as a result.

 

“Two hundred! For what? It’s a white button up.” Scandalized, she hurries to put a cap on the bottle and grabs the gauze.

 

“Yes, but it’s a nice button up.” Zsasz shrugs her hands off. “Gunman.”

 

“Right. Well, I went to a cafe with Josie. He showed up, tried to rob everyone but Josie shot him.” She frowns as she dabs at the wound. It’s not that deep, thankfully, she had thrown it too softly, not enough power behind it. Eva would have reprimanded her for the lack of force.

 

“Hm. Good.” Zsasz shifts.

 

“I met a girl too, she was reading a book on chickens.” She blabs nervously as she decides it’ll need stitches. Which she’s not sure she can do so she settles for using the butterfly bandages before wrapping it.

 

“Chickens?”

 

“Yes. She also had the prettiest green eyes and--”

 

“What was her name?”

 

She pauses, as she starts to reach for the tape. Zsasz looks a little too interested as he waits for her answer.

 

“Liza? Why?”

 

A slow grin forms on his lips. “What a coincidence. She’s your first job.”

 

Paling, she nearly drops the tape. She can’t kill Liza. They exchanged phone numbers.

 

“Please don’t tell me I have to kill her. “

 

Zsasz shakes his head, although he looks a little too into the idea of killing this woman. “You have to be her friend.”

 

She wants to ask why, but she feels like the less she knows the better so instead she finishes up the rather poor job she’s doing on his injury. She chews her lip nervously as she steps away, stomach turning at the news she’s been given. She doesn’t want to fail him, but she doesn’t want to hurt anyone. That’s never been her.

 

“Madame tells me you’re doing good.” Zsasz says, when he notices how uncomfortable she is with the discussion.

 

She brightens easily, ready for the distraction. “I can actually focus here. It’s been great.” She smiles, and her eyes dart to her achievement board. His eyes follow and he looks a little amused.

 

“In honor of your recent good grades I’ve brought you a gift.”  


Her focus centers on him and she knows she looks a little eager, waiting for him to reveal his gift.The first time had been getting to finish school, the last time, he took her out for ice cream. She can’t imagine what he’ll do next.

 

He pulls out a little box, roughly the size of her hand. Intrigued, she reaches forward but he snatches it away. “If you slack I might take it away.”

 

She won’t. They both know that. He’s just messing with her.

 

“I’ll be a good girl, sir!” She says, dropping her voice enough to sound on the edge of seductive. Something that Tobi has been teaching her to be lately.

 

He looks a little stunned at her words, taking a moment to absorb the delivery. He chuckles, and drops the neatly wrapped gift in her hands. “Enjoy.”

 

Ripping open a present is a luxury she hasn’t had in years so she relishes in it, closing her eyes. The paper tears under her fingers with a sense of excitement that only comes from opening gifts. She lifts the top up, once there is no more paper to rip and spots a perfect pink little phone staring at her. In awe, she extricates it and turns it over in her hands. It’s gorgeous, and brand freaking new. When she flips it open, it’s screen is perfect and doesn’t do that glitchy thing hers does.

 

“For me?” She asks, voice cracking a little.

 

“Well, no. I just had you open it.”

 

Rolling her eyes, she goes into the contact list. There is a single number in there, under the title _‘Daddy.’_ She raises an eyebrow and just to see who’s number it is she hits dial.

 

Funky town starts playing and Zsasz remains dead faced as he pulls out his own cell phone. “Hello?”

 

She laughs. “Thank you, _Daddy._ ”

 

“Only the best for my Doll.” He snaps it shut. “Keep up the good work.”

 

He gets up, striding from her room.

 

“Wait! What about the bill?”

 

“Taken care of. Unlimited. Enjoy.”

 

Then he’s gone.  


 

* * *

 

 

 

“So he just gave you a phone? _And_ he took you for ice cream three weeks ago?” Tobi dodges her blow, retaliation with a swift jab to her side.

 

She grunts. “Yeah. He’s really nice.”

 

“Zsasz is good to all of us, don’t get me wrong.” Tobi rains down a series of blows, barely giving her time to dodge and the last one gets her. It’s a swift hit to her face that leaves her seeing stars so she calls a time out.

 

“But he’s not that attentive to most of us. Maybe Eva but that’s because she likes torturing as much as he does sometimes.”

 

Frowning she chugs a swig of water. “So you’re saying that he only does that with me?”

 

Tobi shrugs.

 

“It’s not like it means anything. I just happen to know stuff. Because of me, Falcone gets to live another day. Now he’s got the drop on,” she glances around, “his enemies.”

 

“Whatever you say. Sounds like it’s personal between you two.” Tobi smacks her, with her hand. “Let’s go again.”

 

She’s aching by the time they’re done. It doesn’t help that for Tobi a ‘cool down’ is jogging back to the house, something that easily takes twenty minutes at the speed they’re going, which is actually quite fast. She’s building muscle and endurance, sure, but at what cost? Her entire body is shaking by the time they climb the stairs and head to their own rooms.

 

The hot shower feels heavenly against her skin and she spends enough time in there to probably run up the bill. She’s certainly glad that soon she’ll be making money, if Zsasz really is about to start assigning her jobs. She feels like a freeloader, walking around doing practically nothing all day. It’s not like she can cook every meal, they do have Chef. Although she spends a ridiculous amount of time inspecting how he cooks, both to learn, and to ensure he’s not trying to slowly poison them to death. A plan which her own father had used. Took three years but the old bastard he was after died, leaving the widow more than a little happy.

 

When she exits she spots the slip of paper on her desk and frowns. She’s yet to message Liza and knows she really should get to it. She doesn’t want to, at all but then she looks at her cork board. Her schedule and grades and new life and knows that when she made that deal she became Zsasz’s to do what he willed with. She’s lucky all he wants is her cooperation in this, he could have easily made her one of the nobody’s in his Playroom. He just wants her to be Liza’s friend. Which she can do. It’s simple. She can be someone’s friend, best friend even, if it means she keeps this life.

 

She holds her hand up, there is an assignment missing. It’s not important, just a short piece of poetry she wrote, for her english assignment. High born ladies have lots of different hobbies, and she chose rhyming. She had written of the Beast, when he had first seen Belle enter his castle, and her sacrifice. It wasn’t very good at all, but who would sneak into her room to take it?  


Or maybe, she never put it up there to begin with. She was starting to run out of room too, it’s entirely plausible that she replaced it with something new or that it was covered up by something else. She slides into bed, grabbing her new pink phone. She opens her messages, and sees a new one.

 

_‘Package is irritable but is no longer skipping school. Met a girl. Is participating in the school play. Hamlet.’_

 

Smiling, she sends an update of her own and thanks them for looking out for them. Instantly a reply is received.

 

_‘No problem. Remind me not to have children. GN.’_

 

Shaking her head she moves on, hand hovering over the third number in her phone. She had to reach out first, considering her old phone was no longer in service. Chewing her lip she types and retypes her message eight times before finally settling on something that doesn’t make her feel like she’s shouting her intentions.

 

_‘Hey Liza. It’s (Y/N) from the cafe. Got a new phone. There’s a farmer’s market tomorrow morning starting at 9 am, would you like to go?’_

 

After a pause.

 

_‘They have hens?’_

 

Liza: _‘Hi! I would love to. See you there :)!’_

 

Sighing in relief she sets the phone down. Operation: Become Liza’s friend is a go, it seems. Tomorrow, she’s a Zsaszette-in-training. Zsasz said there would be more instructions if she could prove she had a handle on it.

 

 _‘I won’t let you down’,_ She thinks, determined.

 

She dreams of beheading birds, dressed in black leather.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank all of you who reviewed and relieved my worries about the last chapter. I'm no longer re-enacting the Exorcist but I do have some time before I feel 100% so thank you for your concern. Personally, best part of last chapter, which I forgot to mention, was the cute little ice cream (kinda) date. I just love the idea of Victor chilling in a diner eating ice cream, also made a hint towards Victor considering becoming vegan because it's like show canon that he is? A fact which I apparently forgot but found while trying to figure out who his parents were. 
> 
> Also, I got major sugar daddy vibes in this one from Victor which actually...story idea to explore if you guys want? After I conclude this one possible? I'd even try using 'you' as a way of writing if ya'll prefer?
> 
> Anyways, enjoy. Let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

The sky is blue for once. Somehow the day is bright and cheery looking and were it not for the chill in the air or dead plants she’d say it was spring. It feels a lot like she’s looking at her intentions. She’s presenting herself to be someone to be trusted and yet, she’s here for nefarious reasons. It does not matter that before her assignment she had considered becoming friends with Liza. Now that it’s her mission it tinges every word they share with something dark and unforgiving. 

 

Liza looks too sweet in a pink dress coupled with a white overcoat. The black she wears makes her stick out next to the blonde and guilt soaks her to the core. 

 

“You know I can carry that just fine right?” 

 

“No, I wouldn’t want you to get your dress dirty.”  _ It’s the least I can do _ , she adds in her head,  _ I’m lying to you after all.  _

 

They’re on their way to her apartment, a tiny little baby chick chirping from the cage in her arms. The morning had gone splendid, and so far she feels she’s doing a great job, aside from the knots in her stomach. She can’t stop thinking that Zsasz is going to show up and make her kill Liza as a way to initiate her into his entourage. She doesn’t think she can, especially because so far, Liza seems like a wonderful girl. 

 

“You think he’ll like it?” Liza asks, nervously tucking a strand behind her ear as she puts her key into the lock. 

 

“Absolutely, it’s got good pedigree.” She pets the little fuzz ball. “Plus she’s real friendly.”

 

“I didn’t even know hens could have that, by the way.” She laughs. “Excuse the mess, I’m not here as often as I’d like.”

 

The apartment is spotless, so she’s not sure what Liza could be talking about. It’s classy, with white and gold accents everywhere. But, there are no pictures. None of family or even just her. Strange. 

 

“You can sit her down on the coffee table while I fix us up something. Pasta okay?”

 

Her stomach turns. “Sure!”

 

The closer she looks the more she’s starting to notice how new everything looks. The couch has got that new smell going on and although she’s used to the way the Zsaszette’s live this is just out of place. It looks staged. Even the coat draped over the edge of it looks put there purposefully. There is a stack of magazines on the table which she rifles through after she puts down the hen. Only the top one has been opened, the rest are sealed. Interesting. 

 

“Do you want alfredo or tomato?”

 

Neither sounds appetizing. “Alfredo.”

 

Liza starts opening her cabinets and she’s notes that they look bare. Could just be that she’s a minimalist but then again, there’s a full bookshelf next to her. All the paperbacks look brand new. Their spines unbent or cracked. No one owns this many cookbooks. 

 

She stands, abruptly. “Where’s your bathroom? I’d like to wash my hands.”

 

“Oh, down the hall to the right.”

 

There’s two doors but as she hears music start up in the kitchen she slips into the bedroom. The bed is untouched, which could be explained by her staying at the mysterious boyfriend’s house. Except, she’s looking for signs of life here and it looks just as impersonal as the living room. She opens both bedside drawers and they’re bare. The dresser is barely filled enough to warrant its presence and when she throws open the closet she sees that the clothes are separated by outfit. She pushes them aside and goes rigid. There is a picture there, taped up, of a woman in clothes like Liza. It could be her mother, sure, but something tells her there’s more to this. She lets the clothes fall back into place. 

 

“Who are you, Liza.” She whispers, when she hears her name being called. 

 

Quickly she runs into the restroom and washes her hands. The soap is filled to the top, and the medicine cabinet only has a toothbrush. Not so much as a container of midol or tylenol in sight. 

 

“Sorry, my hands wouldn’t lose that weird animal smell the first three times. Luckily, I got it.” She gives a nervous giggle as she sits at the island, watching Liza chop the already cooked chicken into perfect little squares. 

 

“Well, if you hadn’t insisted on inspecting every single one of them, maybe you wouldn’t have had that problem.” Liza gives her a little grin as she starts combining the pasta. 

 

“You told me your boyfriend was a purist, of course I was going to check all of them!”

 

Truthfully, she spent the entire time before their meeting researching the signs of a good hen, something she thought she’d never have to learn. All to make herself appear more desirable to Liza. Sometimes, the quickest way to earn someone’s trust was to help them find the perfect gift for a loved one. 

 

“That he is, he spends hours with them. Hopefully he likes her.”

 

A plate is placed in front of her and although she feels like eating pasta this early is a bad idea, she takes a bite. “Oh wow. This is good.” 

 

It is, and she closes her eyes to hide Liza’s radiant smile away. Unfortunately, guilt is an unappetizing seasoning on the meal and at the end of it, she feels more than ready to excuse herself to go home after. They make plans for the following week, to go to the park for a walk and maybe the movies after. She leaves, with Liza promising to tell her how her boyfriend receives the gift. 

 

Ten minutes later something becomes apparent. At first, she thought maybe the car was lost, or that they were simply going the same way but it’s moving too slow. It should have passed her several times by now. So, she knows, she’s being followed. She fights to keep her pace steady, trying not to alert the car that she’s very aware of it. She’s been followed before. Of course it was just a man on foot, who she was able to lose rather quickly but that was in the Narrows. The rest of Gotham is a mystery to her, it’s network too unfamiliar to even try to use to her advantage.

 

She’s desperate to take out her phone and call Zsasz but he’s got better things to do than come to her rescue. She knows this but holding her phone makes her feel better, reminds her that she’s got a way out if she feels like it’s too much so she takes a deep breath and crosses the street. She’d feel better with a knife but it’s tucked in her boot today, too far for her to reach without looking suspicious. Maybe she can pretend to tie her shoe. 

 

Not like it matters because the car is speeding up and there is someone grabbing her. The fucking car was a distraction. She didn’t even notice the figure hiding in the alley. 

 

“Let go of me!” She screams, hoping someone will come to her rescue but this is Gotham. No one even looks. It’s the middle of the goddamn day and not a single soul seems to care. 

 

“Jesus, we got a fighter here.”

 

She snarls, trying to do the move Tobi taught her the other day but the man is so much bigger than the tiny asian. He barely even registers the hit, just tosses her into the vehicle. The inside is covered in blood and her eyes widen as she stops struggling just enough to register the amount of danger she’s in. She should have called Zsasz. Except now it’s too late and they’re tearing through the streets of Gotham like the city’s on fire. Not even the hitman drove this fast. 

 

Vaguely, she remembers an assembly warning her of kidnappings and the dangers of secondary locations. She’s _ not  _ going to bleed in here and she is  _ not  _ dying now. Not when her life is just starting to be more than bearable. She glares at the stranger as he laughs with his buddy. 

 

“Look at her, all feisty. You think boss will let me play with her?” He runs his fingers up her ankle and before either of them can reply to him she slams her head forward, hearing the satisfying crunch of his nose. 

 

“That bitch!”

 

The man behind her tightens his grip, reaching a hand around to hold her head steady. The creep ahead of her sends her head flying to the side with a loud smack, leaving her starry eyed. 

 

“You’re lucky we have orders for you to arrive unharmed.” He hisses, spit shooting out and landing on her cheek. She hopes the hate in her eyes is obvious as she turns her head away from him. 

 

“She’s a haughty one, huh.” The man says, casually moving to tie her to the chains attached to the side of the car. 

 

She’s not the first to be kept here. The blood is more than enough evidence for that. The chains say that there have been stronger people here. Or, more important people. Which can only mean either she’s meeting someone in power or, she’s going to go to a slave market. She hopes it’s someone with ties to the mafia, maybe even Falcone. Won’t be too hard to negotiate a call, to soothe whomever she’s wronged so that they let her get out alive. She can’t tell any authorities about secret poisonings if she’s in with the baddest of them all. Even an idiot would be able to see that. She hopes this is about poisonings. 

 

The rest of the ride consists of her sliding around in the back as the maniac driver swerves like the police are chasing them. She almost wants there to be cops involved, if only so that she doesn’t abandon all the good feelings she had for Gotham. But a girl getting kidnapped is not really at the top of anyone’s concerns, especially since there won't be anyone looking for her yet. Her gun lesson isn’t starting for another fifteen minutes, when she might already be dead. Her head is spinning and her cheek is throbbing. 

 

They stop, screeching and she groans as she hits the metal in front of her. The men don’t even give her a second to get her bearings, just shove her head into a sack and drag her from the vehicle kicking wildly. She just hears city noises but nothing clues her into her location. There’s three men with her, she knows that. A driver, the man with the broken nose, and the one who grabbed her. They climb several stairs. She trips every couple of steps and slams her knee into one of them roughly. She cries out, pained and the men end up dragging her the rest of the way. She doesn’t hear anyone else as they shove her into chair, tying her roughly to it. 

 

“You’re going to regret this,” she growls, “once he hears about this.”

 

“And who is he, pray tell.” 

 

She freezes. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. The hood is ripped off revealing the last person she ever wanted to see. 

 

“Been a while, little girl. You’ve changed.” Fish Mooney smirks, raising a glass as she stands from her chair, hips swaying as she advances. Did she have someone bring the throne in or did it just exist here? For meetings like this? 

 

Over the woman’s shoulder she sees Butch Gazilean, nursing a drink. They’re both backlit by the lights in the city and it’s then that she realizes she’s sat in a chair dangling on the edge of a very tall building. She can see the bay, and beyond, Metropolis. The wind brushes against her hard and she feels more than hears the creak of her chair with the force of it. She teeters. 

 

Shit. 

 

“Hello, Miss Mooney.” She says, voice carefully even. Reveal nothing. You don’t know anything. Pretend you’re not several stories up. 

 

“How was your trip?” Fish smiles, placing her champagne flute in the hands of the driver.

 

“Can’t say it’ll get five stars considering,” she tilts her head, showing off the bruise forming. 

 

“Unfortunate. But if it makes you feel better.” She rears her hand back, bring it down hard on the man who slapped her. He grunts, tripping from the force of it. Fish steps back, shaking the pain away. “Get out.”

 

All of them file away save for Butch, who’s gotten up to loom over Fish’s shoulder. He looks just as big as she remembers and desperate to appear unthreatened she straightens her spine. “In that case, I’ll give it three stars.” She smiles thinly. “For the view.”

 

“Hm, yes I quite like it too. Now, I’ve been meaning to offer my condolences, considering the fate of your father but it was like you disappeared. Poof without a single clue to be found. Not even your old boss knew where you took off to.” Fish raises an empty hand, punctuating her words.    
  


So far, it’s all too pleasant, the way they’re talking. But she’s tied up and she knows that had the woman meant this to be a friendly conversation she would have found better ways to meet her. “Grief. It’s does strange things to people.” She supplies. 

 

Butch shakes his head. 

 

“I don’t like liars. You might want to rethink your next words carefully.” Fish warns, raising a finger. “ I looked for you, ready to take you and your brother in. Imagine my surprise  when I hear that you’ve been running around in Falcone’s world.”

 

She wants to know who told her, but asking that question feels a lot like asking to be killed so she remains tight lipped, waiting. Sirens sound from below. They’re probably not for her. Fish has her claws in deep with the police force, it wouldn’t surprise her if the call came in and was promptly disregarded.

 

“What are you doing in Victor Zsasz’s home?”

 

Her mind blanks. She hadn’t been aware that people were keeping an eye on her, a mistake on her part. Who revealed her location? Was Fish aware of where her brother is? Damn it, she should have sent him to another country. It’s like everyone knows where he is. 

 

She shifts, tugging experimentally on her ropes. Someone must have noticed she’s late to training by now. She’s never late. Please let them realize something is wrong. 

 

“Tick tock, girl. You better start talking real soon or Butch over there is going to have to start using that muscle of is. Don’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”

 

“He went to my bar, after. Saw something he found interesting.” She says quickly, eyes boring into Fish’s willing her to find the half truth in her words. 

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yes. He bought me a phone, he’s putting me through school-” She blabs, trying to push in as much detail as possible without incriminating anyone involved. 

 

“Why?”

 

She stops abruptly. She has no idea why he’s doing it. Why he does any of it. She shrugs, eyes tearing up because she can see a gun glinting in Butch’s hand. She’s not ready to die here. 

 

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked. He just...he buys me such pretty things and I never-” She chokes, as the tears start sliding down her face. She keeps thinking of her brother’s face, rushing to make her crying face appear more natural by bringing up painful memories. Nobody just cries without getting a little red faced. 

 

“Enough. I can’t stand crying.” Fish rubs her temples, looking more than a little annoyed. 

 

“Boss, what do you want me to do?” Butch asks, flexing the hand with all the rings. 

 

“Nothing. She’s obviously telling the truth look at her. She looks nothing like the little thing I saw at that man’s apartment. She’s risen, to the top, the only way a girl like her can.”

 

The comment bristles at her, because it’s somewhat true. She paid with her utmost obedience to get where she is, she’s just lucky Zsasz is asking her to pay up in the weirdest way possible. If he had asked her that first day to strip she probably would have. Her brother above all else, even her body. 

 

“Now, one last question. Who’s that girl to you? The one you were at the market with?”

 

She blinks. Why does Fish want to know about her? “Liza? She’s a friend.” 

 

Fish takes this in like it’s a lot more important that it is and for a moment she worries that she’s put the target of her first mission in danger. 

 

“Butch.”

 

There’s a gun in her face.

 

Fish is walking away, and she calls for her, terrified. She’s not ready to die. “Zsasz is going to come for me! Fish!”

 

“Sorry, little girl. Looks like your man ain’t coming.” She shuts her eyes, as Butch’s finger moves on the trigger. She doesn’t want the last thing she sees to be a bullet. 

 

“Forgive me.” She whispers, hoping the words find their way to her brother. She’s going to die with so many regrets now. She never even got to have a first kiss, something that springs into her mind as she hears the click of an empty chamber. 

 

“You have gotta be kidding me.” Curses Butch. 

 

She opens her eyes. 

 

“The gun’s stuck. Give me a second.” He says as  Fish sighs loudly.

 

The incredulity of it all isn’t lost on her so she laughs. What luck. The only thing missing is someone using this moment to swoop in and save her. A gun sounds and she cuts off, thinking that Butch has got the gun working but no, it’s Butch who’s gotten hit and not her as he yelps loudly. 

 

“I do believe that’s mine right there.”

 

Zsasz. 

 

Relief fills her and she smirks, smug as she watches Butch nurse the bullet wound in his arm. Serves the motherfucker right. 

 

“Why Victor Zsasz. Fancy meeting you here.” Fish says, spreading her arms out with a benign smile. It’s almost like they’re not on the roof of what could have been her final resting place on Earth. 

 

“Yes. Fancy. Now, what are you doing with her.” Zsasz raises a gun, pointing at her before swinging it back around on Butch. He uses the other hand to scratch his head with the gun’s twin. “This doesn’t look consensual.” He gestures to the ropes. 

 

Fish gives him a blank look, her smile falling flat. It’s a feeling she can relate a little to, because Zsasz does say the strangest things. She bites her lip, hiding her amusement as best as she can while Butch groans in pain. She viciously hopes he’ll lose arm function, if only for a little. 

 

“Just catching up. Offering my condolences for her father.”

 

Zsasz raises an eyebrow, glancing between them. “Huh. Looks to me like you were planning on shooting her but okie dokie. If that’s all there is to it.I’m going to take her home now.” He holsters both his guns, giving Fish a blinding smile that disappears as soon as it’s flashed. 

 

Fish steps forward, like she’s thinking about stopping him but something in his eyes halts her and she nods. “As you wish. No harm done, I didn’t realize you cared about her.” Her eyes narrow into slits as she bows her head a little. 

 

Zsasz stalks towards her shoving his guns into their holsters. Her entire body feels like it’s vibrating and she hopes she doesn’t say something stupid. Like tell him she loves him because he’s rescuing her. Her heart beat is still thumping too loud in her ears. 

 

“It’s not about caring. It’s about ownership. No one breaks my toys but me.” He says, leaning down into her face, turning his back to the two of them. “How’re you doing?”

 

She inhales shakily. “Well, I’m tied up to a chair on the edge of a building and just had a gun aimed at me.” She beams brightly, switching into a perky tone. “I’m perfect!” 

 

He smirks. “Glad you still got your attitude in tact.” His hands grab the chair and very roughly yanks her back off the ledge. “If you two are still here by the time she’s untied, I’ll hurt you. Regardless of what Falcone orders of me.” He calls behind him. 

 

She hears rapid movements and a door opening and then it’s just her and Zsasz. 

 

“These ropes aren’t even that tight. Remind me to teach you how to get out of these.” He scowls, as he gets to work on the knots. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘amateurs.’

 

“Have a lot of experience tying people up do you?” She jokes, trying to get her emotions under control. Her eyes are burning and she doesn’t want to cry. She needs a distraction. 

 

His eyes flash up, dark. “Yes.”

 

“Oh.” She licks her lips, a little nervous as he sets to work on the ropes around her legs. Careful what you wish for, it seems. 

 

She’s wearing rather thin leggings, not having been prepared to be out for much longer than a couple of hours. She can feel his hands brushing against them as he works on the knots. Now, she isn’t thinking about crying or guns or anything but the way his hands feel. 

 

“Is it a murder thing or a torture thing?” 

 

He smirks, bending down to pull a piece of rope with his teeth. The action is dangerously alluring and she finds herself a little breathless as he sets to work on her right leg. 

 

“It’s a sex thing.” He glances up at her, drinking in her red cheeks and suddenly shy expression. 

 

“Oh.” She repeats, at a loss for words. 

 

He grins letting the rope fall slack onto the chair. He starts to work on the arms, gently tugging and pulling on the knots. His gloves are missing and she wonders where they’ve gone. His fingers brush against her sore skin and she sighs, a little too loud. The right hand comes loose a lot faster and once both wrists are free she expects him to move. Except he doesn’t, just rocks back on his heels and gives her a once over. He’s balanced perfectly, crouching, looking like he has little to no intention of getting out of the way so she can stand. 

 

“Are you asking because you’re curious?” His eyes twinkle as he moves his hands to her lap, taking her wrists and rubbing at the rope burn on them. 

 

“Asking about what?” She says, stupidly. She can’t focus beyond the small circular motions he’s doing. They trace heat and the chill of her skin is rapidly disappearing. 

 

“The ropes.” He tilts his head. “You know, if I tied you up you wouldn’t get these,” he raises her wrist, “not unless you wanted them.” He keeps perfect eye contact with her as he lowers his mouth to her skin.

 

And then she feels them. 

 

His lips, brushing, ever so softly against her bruises. 

 

She whimpers. 

 

Heart pounding in her chest she remains transfixed as he carefully presses kisses into her left wrist before he switches. Electric shocks form everytime they touch, his hot breath raising goosebumps. He doesn’t say a word but it feels like he’s telling her something. 

 

She shuts her eyes, too overwhelmed to keep looking. His teeth graze her skin

 

_ Look.  _

 

And so she does. 

 

_ Feel this? _

 

She gasps, as he licks.

 

_ Do you want more? _

 

He rises, hovering right in front of her face. She doesn’t know how to answer. She pants, shaking, as she waits for his next move. She turns, trying to ground herself by looking out into the city. She’s too scared of what he will do. This would be so much easier if he didn’t give her a choice but he always has, to some extent. He always leaves the ball in her court, when it really comes down to it. She’s not sure if she’s ready to leave it in his hands.

 

His eyes are searching her face in the silence and she chews her lip. He reaches out, hand lightly pressing on her cheek and she winces. The mood shifts, instantly and she can feel his unspoken question slip away, unanswered.

 

She’s a damn coward. 

 

“I’ll break her. It’s only a matter of time.” He promises. “Come on, let’s go home.”

 

He extends his hand. The way he says home sends a surge of warmth through her she did not expect. It’s not the heat that he inspired in her moments ago, or the feeling she got when he appeared, it’s something different. It’s ultimately what spurs her to take his hand. 

 

With the sun setting, he helps her off the roof, hand gripping her tight. “I was worried, for a minute there.” She confesses. “I thought I was going to die.”

 

“Never. I’ll come for you. I’ll always come for you.” He tugs her hand for emphasis, urging her on despite her shaking legs. The pounding heart and adrenaline were finally wearing off and she could feel exhaustion seeping into her. 

 

“Take me home then.”  She smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended ending:
> 
> They wander around for what feels like forever until Zsasz just stops, in the dead center of a busy road. The cars all honk loudly but he just pulls out a gun and they all rush to squeak past him. 
> 
> “Zsasz?”
> 
> “Sh, I’m trying to remember where I left my car.”
> 
> She balks, as he begins to drag her off into an alley. 
> 
> “You lost your car?!”
> 
> “I didn’t lose it. I just can’t remember where it is.” 
> 
> “That’s what it means to lose something” She shouts shrilly. 
> 
> They stop in front of a group of kids, and she shifts from foot to foot, her knee aching something terrible. She wants to go lie down in her bed. 
> 
> “I’ll give a thousand dollars to the first person who finds my car.” Zsasz tosses his keys into the hands of one of the teens. “If you take off with my car, if there is a single dent in it, I will hurt you.”
> 
> “Zsasz!”


	14. Chapter 14

 

**_BANG!_ **

 

The gunshot rings in her ears. She’s stopped flinching now every time she shoots but she’s not sure she can get used to the force of it expelling a bullet. Her arms are sore and her ears ache. She’s ready to call it quits because she’s pretty sure she’s never going to get the hand of this.

 

“How are you so good at it?” She asks.

 

Tobi shoots off a series of bullets and she watches as the girl carves a little hand flipping the bird in her outline. “Practice. If you think I’m good you should see Tatiana.”

 

“Please! She’s selling herself short. She shot Jim Gordon last Tuesday!”

 

Surprised, she reflexively  squeezes the trigger. The gun fires off in her hands and she winces as it embeds itself on the very edge of the figure. She sets the gun down before she can cause anymore damage and turns to Tobi.

 

“You shot Jim Gordon?”

 

Tobi shrugs. “Yeah? So?”

 

Josie snorts and shakes her.

 

“Jim Gordon was the one in charge of my father’s case.” She mumbles before deciding she’s done with this. “I don’t think guns are for me.”

 

“Without practice you’re not going to get better.” Josie chirps.

 

“I don’t think practice is going to help much with _that_.” Tobi gestures to the figure.

 

There is a perfect ring of bullets, all just outside of the body’s form. They had given her the biggest one, and hers wasn’t even moving like Josie’s.

 

“Oh. Well, at least you’re consistent.” Josie claps her on the back.

 

“Thanks Josie.”

 

* * *

 

 

Her door is slightly ajar.

She bites her lip.

 

“Doll, I can see your shadow under the door, why don’t you come in?”

 

She bristles and shoves her door open. “This is my room, you don’t need to invite me in.”

 

He’s lounging on her bed, eyes closed, looking perfectly content. She wonders if he wears anything other than suits and fancy buttons up or if he goes to sleep in them as well. She’s curious, but the only way to answer that question is to take him up on his offer. Her cheeks burn at the thought. She’s still so grateful he never brought up her blurting out the first thing that came to mind that night.

 

“On the contrary, both this room _and_ you are mine. So, make yourself at home.” He pats the small space next to him.

 

She huffs and stubbornly sits herself across from him at her desk and crosses her arms. “Zsasz, not that I don’t enjoy your company, but why are you here?”

 

He hums and lazily opens his right eye to peek at her. “Your bed is nice.”

 

“I’m sure your bed is ten times better.”

 

He jumps up, twisting to face her and planting his feet on the floor. “You wanna find out?”

 

Red in the face, she opens and closes her mouth. He laughs at the expression on her face, snapping her out of her reverie and she scowls. “No.”

 

“So cold, Doll. One of these days you’re going to say yes.” He gets up and moves towards her.

 

She stiffens as he perches on the desk, gazing down at her. His eyes twinkle as he raises a hand to touch the bruise on her face.

 

“Falcone’s told me something. I can’t tell you but, I will make good on my promise. Okay?” He gently prods it and her eyes flutter. She’s never been touched so gently before.

 

“Okay.” She breathes out as the heat from him sinks into her.

 

He tilts her face up and moves down, hovering right above her own face. Heart racing she sucks in a lungful of air, feeling imprisoned by his stare.

 

He cradles her, and his thumb presses on the corner of her bottom lip. He drags it down just a little, making her lips pout. Exhaling shakily, she trembles.

 

Waiting.

 

Nothing exists but this.

 

She wants him to move.

 

To do something.

 

Press closer.

 

Go away.

 

His lips are _right_ there.

 

If she wanted to, she could do it. Take him.

 

But she can’t.

 

She’s never.

 

She can't.

 

She shuts her eyes, face burning.

 

He pulls away, sighing.

 

She’s a coward.

 

“You’re not ready.” He caresses her cheek, making her eyes flutter open. “But that’s okay. I’m patient.”

 

Zsasz gets up and goes back to the bed, giving her the space needed to regain her breath. She scrutinizes him, wondering why he hadn’t just kissed her. She wants to ask but the question curls around in her chest, like a sleeping dragon and she decides to let it rest. He crosses his arms and mercifully, chooses to stare at the ceiling instead of her.

 

“I’m here for your report. I was going to ask yesterday but you were clearly exhausted.”

 

Vaguely touched by this she smiles. She pulls out a key and unlocks the top drawer. In it is a journal and she pulls it out, flipping through it. She’d moved all her notes on the girls into a journal she bought after she went shopping with Josie. In it there’s a page about the things she noticed with Liza.

 

“Organized. I can admire that in a woman.”

 

Embarrassed, she nearly drops it as she tries to hand it to him.

 

“No, a journal is private. Read what you think is important to me.”

 

She clears her throat. It’s so strange how quickly Zsasz can go from making her heart pound to this seriousness. If she was anyone else she’d be getting whiplash.

 

“Her apartment is devoid of personal things. No family pictures or any of her or the boyfriend.”

 

Zsasz hums. “She could just not be a picture person, or maybe they got destroyed.”

 

She shakes her head. “A girl like Liza, she should have at least one or two. And I doubt _all_ the pictures she’s owned got ruined.”

 

Zsasz motions for her to continue.

 

“Her apartment was spotless. Before you interrupt,” his mouth snaps shut, “she isn’t a neatfreak. Not to that level. No true neatfreak would be content dating someone who’s main hobby surrounds the care of hens. She didn’t look the least bit disgusted when we went to the market.”

 

“Besides that, there were lots of new things there. Like magazines that were unopened, or paperback books with unbroken spines. Her bookshelf looked like someone went out and filled it that same day.”

 

“Maybe she likes the look of them but doesn’t read?”

 

She frowns. “That’s a reach. Most of them were romance novels, the non-raunchy kind, and cookbooks. She should have a favorite or two, but none of them were worn.”

 

“Interesting.” Is all Zsasz says.

 

“Her kitchen looked completely bare. I’m talking, ‘just moved in and I’m broke’ kind of bare. She has this beautiful apartment and only one of the cabinets looked anything close to filled.” She flips the page. “And I checked out the bathroom. Same thing. Bare, and it lacked a lot of things that are normally in a girl’s bathroom.” She pauses, waiting for Zsasz to poke holes in her concerns.

 

“Okay, that’s a little weird.”

 

“That’s not the worst of it. I looked in her bedroom, there were barely any clothes in there. And, get this, they were all organized into outfits. Like it was a fashion show, but again, excusable.” She pauses. “And well, there was a picture of a woman taped up in the closet.”

 

At this Zsasz looks immensely interested. He levels her with a stare and he brings his fingers up to this mouth. “Could you recognize this woman again?”

 

She shoves the journal back into the drawer, locking it. “Yes. She’s not a woman you can confuse for anyone else.”

 

Zsasz gets up, moving towards the door urgently. She stumbles over herself to follow, feeling like they have unfinished business.

 

“Zsasz.”

 

He turns, hand around the doorknob.

 

“Why-...” Fear prickles up in her and she bites her cheek. Clenching her fists, she tries again but the words won’t come out.   


“Doll?”

 

“Why am I doing this?” She rushes out instead and winces. That wasn’t what she wanted to ask at all.

 

He tilts his head.

 

“Why am I following Liza? Befriending her?”

 

Zsasz looks away. “I can’t tell you. I have a suspicion and what you’re telling me has confirmed a lot of it.”

 

Nodding she pulls away and he opens the door. He turns at the last minute and runs his hand through her hair, petting it softly. “You did good.” He says earnestly, bending down to meet her eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

Blushing, she watches him disappear down the stairs. She raises a hand and touches her head, heart pounding.

 

“I did good.” She whispers, body glowing.

 

Thirty minutes later a text appears.

 

_‘Get ready. We have a mission.’_

 

She feels a strange mixture of excitement and nerves bubble up in her as she reads it.

 

_“Btw, there’s a dress in your closet. Wear that one.’_

 

She raises an eyebrow as she goes to it. Inside she sees a garment bag. She slowly unzips it and gapes at the beauty of it.

 

The phone buzzes.

 

_‘You have an hour.’_

 

She types an affirmative, going so far as to put a heart next to her thank you and sends it before she can change her mind. She waits but no reply after that comes so she drops her phone on the desk and gently removes the dress from the bag. It’s gold, and slightly sheer at the skirt. It looks gorgeous and she’s so thankful she’s started to gain weight even if she’s only managed to gain a pound for every week she’s been here it’s still a vast improvement. She hopes she’ll get to keep it, if only because she’ll want to try it on later, months from now, when she’s at her ideal weight.

 

She goes into the bathroom and turns the hot water on, humming. She’s ready for this. She can handle anything Zsasz throws at her. Hopefully. As long as it doesn’t involve a kiss.

 

She showers as fast as she can, going through the routine she’s been shown by Tobi who apparently has no body hair except on her eyebrows and head. It’s much more extensive than the one she’s used to. She exfoliates and uses the gel and when she steps out she painstakingly moisturizes every part of her. It makes her feel a little ridiculous because it's an awful lot of work considering the gown will cover most of her but she can see the allure of it. She feels completely smooth everywhere and when she pulls the dress on, it feels like heaven.

 

“Woah.” She gasps, twirling for the mirror.

 

The dress billows out and she’s absolutely mesmerized by it. The dress must have cost a fortune. The off shoulder look makes her lean towards an up-do so she carefully braids a crown and then places it all on top of her head in a messy bun. It elongates her neck and makes her look almost regal. Tobi’s advice, however harshly delivered it is, is always spot on.

 

She finishes the look with some simple makeup, using a gold shimmer on her lids before smoking it out with some brown. She thinks of painting her lips with a soft pink although her eyes keep getting drawn to the deep burgundy color. Josie would push her to pick that one. It’s far out of her comfort zone and a direct betrayal of the standard basic-ness she’s used to. And yet, the temptation is too great. When she looks in the mirror again she looks like someone else.

 

A starlet.

 

A princess.

 

Just someone, beautiful.

 

Tears spring up and she’s quick to fan them away. This life is so beautiful and she doesn’t even feel the least bit of trepidation when she slips a harness on her left thigh and shoves her little knife in. A year ago she wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone for a night like this, and now, she won’t hesitate to kill in order to keep it. Five weeks of bliss is not enough to make up for a decade of agony. This is hers. No one is going to take it from her.

 

If she had to, she realizes, she’d kill Liza. In a heartbeat, if Zsasz ordered her to, she’d do it. She’s not willing to go back to what her life was before. Her father may be dead and her brother removed but the life waiting for her is not desirable in the least. She loves it here. She loves the girls. And she thinks she’s starting to care for Zsasz. Maybe.

 

Zsasz is attractive. There is no denying that. He also has this pull, like a force of gravity drawing her in. But there’s also all the things he’s done for her, for the others, that changes things. She’s scared of knowing more about him, of what his touch does to her. But...at the same time...she wants more.

 

A knock startles her and she jumps. “I’m not doing anything wrong!” She calls reflexively and as soon as the words fall out she smacks a hand against her forehead. That sounded _so_ suspicious.

 

The door swings open and Zsasz is revealed, dressed in a gorgeous black suit with velvet swirls on the coat. He’s got his eyebrow raised and he flicks his gaze up and down her form. “Mm, you sure about that? Because you look like I’ve caught you doing something you’re not supposed to be.”

 

Cheeks burning she grabs the clutch and heels she found resting underneath the garment bag. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

 

“Then who were you talking to? Are you hiding someone?” He, jokingly checks in the closet, hand reaching to grasp at the guns she can see glinting inside his jacket.

 

“No. That’d be stupid.” She huffs,struggling with the buckle of the heel.

 

Spotting her frustration he kneels before her, swatting her hands away. “Here, let me.”

He takes way too long to fix it, hands stroking her ankle shooting tingles up her leg. The feeling makes her stomach flutter and, horrifyingly, stokes the left over heat from earlier in her core. She clamps her thighs together tightly and gives Zsasz a smile when he glances up at her questioningly. He does the next one in the same manner and lingers once he’s attached it.

 

“You look nice.” He drags his hands up as he stands, ruffling the fabric.

 

“Thank you.” She fixes the skirt, breath hitched.

 

“Are you ready?” He extends his hand.

 

Eyeing him, she wonders whether to take the risk. He’s missing his gloves.

 

“Doll, come _on._ I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to.” He raises the other hand, and crosses his heart with a mischievous expression. “I promise.”

 

She takes it, relishing in the rough texture of it.

 

He grins.

 

* * *

 

 

She was, mercifully, spared another terrible display of Zsasz’s driving. The chauffeur had been a kind older gentleman who had complimented the both of them. They were pulling up to the event now. She was an excited sort of nervous and she wiped her sweaty hands on the upholstery discreetly as Zsasz continued to give her instructions.

 

“So, repeat it all back to me now.” He finishes.

 

“We’re here for someone named Jordan Atwood. He’s got a thing for seducing wives and stealing money through the woman from their rich husbands. I’m going to track him down and get him alone and then you’re going to take care of him. If I feel like I’m in danger, I touch my neck.” It barely covered the entire thirty minute brief he’d given her but that was the simplest summary she could think of seeing as it’s their turn to get out of the car.

 

“ Perfect.” He exits first and turns, to help her out. “Right, by the way, you’re my wife.” He whispers into her ear as she emerges.

 

Startled, she trips. He catches her, shrugging with a bemused smile at the valet who had opened their door. “Women and their impractical shoes.”  


She elbows him because dammit, he had picked the shoes for her. He grabs her hand and starts leading her away when she realize he’s slipping something on her ring finger. She goes to pull it away but he tightens his hold.

 

“Relax.” He says into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

 

They’re directed to a ballroom and she’s blinded for a moment by the sheer amount of light. There’s at least three fully lit chandeliers and that’s not counting the numerous candles they have lighting the tables clustered at the edges of the dance floor. There’s a small stage with musicians and a board propped up announcing the ‘Gotham Women's Shelter Charity Ball’ cheerfully with three exclamation points.

 

She nervously bites her lip as several eyes are drawn to them. She’s terrified that someone will realize who they are and considering, according to the newspaper she read, they’re still looking for Zsasz after the whole GCPD fiasco.

 

“Doll.” He smiles and takes two champagne glasses from a server. “What did I say?”

 

“Relax.” She smiles thinly and accepts it, sipping it carefully. Almost immediately her face screws up and she decides she doesn’t like champagne either.

 

“Cute.” He laughs and takes her glass away.

 

She frowns, ready to ask him what he means by the comment before he interrupts. Pushing gently on the small of her back, he points out their target.

 

“Go. Mingle. I’ll be watching.” His eyes dart to Jordan, who glances up just then, meeting her gaze.

 

She does her best to look away, meekly, like she’s shy. This is where all her training with the girls comes into play. Hopefully, she’s retained enough to do good.

 

He turns her head and possessively grips her cheek. She almost thinks he’s going to kiss her but at the last minute he moves his thumb in between their lips. Her tongue snakes out unbidden and tastes. His eyes widen in surprise and he pulls away, giving her a curious stare.

 

“What-”

 

“A stage kiss. We’re married after all,” He raises her hand, and she spots the rings. He’s got a matching band but the engagement ring is what catches her attention.

 

“Is it real?”

 

He smirks. “As real as I am, baby. Now go. His eyes haven’t left you since he spotted you.”

 

Then he’s gone, moving away towards the bar. She turns, feeling completely off-kilter from Zsasz’s fake kiss and her role in all this. Instead of the dumb starlet she was planning on playing she has to portray the lonely wife.

 

Jordan Atwood is coming this way.

 

She gulps.

 

_‘Ready or not, here he comes.’_

 

She pastes on a winning smile and grabs another glass.

 

_‘Here goes nothing.’_

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! I did say it was slow burn! I can say that next chapter something big is happening. Hope you enjoyed!


	15. Chapter 15

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” He grabs her hand and bends down, pressing a kiss on it. “Name’s Jacob Morrison.” She doesn’t miss the way his eyes darted to her huge diamond ring.

 

She raises an eyebrow because she knows that Atwood most definitely saw Zsasz lead her in. But quickly, as he looks up, she giggles, using her other hand to cover her mouth delicately.

 

“Well, I do believe I’m not alone anymore.” He doesn’t release her hand, and begins to lead her away. She casts a look behind her once he’s not looking to Zsasz who has raised a glass to her, smirking.

 

“And what should I call you Mrs.?”

 

She looks to the side demurely. “You can call me Valerie.”

 

He frowns, for a moment, but flashes a blinding smile almost immediately. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

 

_Gross._

 

It’s clear he was fishing for her last name, in order to figure out how wealthy her husband is. Except well, while Zsasz is very, very rich it would be bad to give him that one. She didn’t have any other surnames lined up unaware of the last minute change of role.

 

She smiles. “Thank you.”

 

He strokes her hand softly and she fights the urge to shake him off. He’s lead them to a cute little table at the side that’s be raised so they can stand next to it comfortably. It reminds her a little of the one school dance she went to, when she had escaped her father’s control. She feels just as uncomfortable now, when he leans in too close.

 

“Mr. Morrison-”

 

“Please, call me Jacob.”

 

“Jacob,” she says, rolling his name in her mouth. His eyes fall to her painted lips. “What’s a man like you doing here?”

 

“Oh, well I love donating money, especially when it’s a cause like this. I handle finances for several people, in fact, here.” He pulls out a shiny albeit simple business card. There’s an address, which she’s sure is fake, along with his alias and a phone number. “I think a woman should always have a safe place to escape to, especially when their home isn’t safe.” He gives her a charming smile.

She supposes he’s smart, considering how natural all of his lies seem. She can’t blame those women for getting wrapped up in him. He’s handsome, with blue eyes and blonde hair and he’s got the right sort of attitude. Besides, why wouldn’t you trust someone who believes in charity? Couple that with the fact that so many of those wives were just lonely and starved for attention and well...those poor women never even stood a chance.

 

“That’s awfully kind of you, to be involved in this.” She flatters, brushing her hand across his suit. It doesn’t feel as nice as Zsasz’s.

 

He puffs out his chest and she can see how the gears are turning in his head. His eyes slip down to eye the diamond again and she perks up. “Isn’t my ring beautiful?”

 

He appears flustered for a moment and clears his throat. “Sorry, I couldn't help myself. It’s just so...big.”

 

She laughs, tossing her head back as she holds onto his shoulder. “This is nothing! You should see the necklace I got for my birthday, it puts this diamond to shame!”

 

When she peeks at him, she can the hunger there and she decides to lay it on real thick. “He’s always getting me gifts like these, one time, I told him I was going to leave him and he got me a diamond encrusted handbag. It’s worth a quarter million.” She whispers, placing her hand over her mouth for the full effect.

 

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

She shrugs. “It’s how he is. He’s always gone on business trips so I’m alone a lot. All I have are my pretty things to keep me company. He hasn’t even given me a baby.” She sighs. Lonely wife, check. Absent husband, check. No children, check. She knows she fits his M.O perfectly.   


“You’re kidding? A woman like you deserves to be a mother!” His eyes widen comically and he gestures to her.

 

“I know! Anyways, enough about me...tell me about yourself?” She asks, leaning forward and placing a hand on his hand.

 

He melts a little and she gets the sense that not many of his victims ask about him. He must be used to listening to them talking on and on.

 

“There’s not much to talk about, like I said, I do finances.”

 

“Surely that’s not all you do? Even my husband has his hobbies.”

 

“Well, I volunteer a lot. And I enjoy playing the guitar.” She raises an eyebrow at this and wonders if that’s a made up talent or if he seriously can play the instrument.

 

“Acoustic or electric?”

 

His eyes glow. “Electric is my favorite. Most women don’t ask that.”

 

She smirks. “I’m not most women, Jacob.”

  
“I can see that.” The music changes, becoming a soft slow melody and he extends his hand. “Dance with me?”

 

Her eyes widen. She doesn’t know how to dance. Not at all. Fuck.

 

“You look like you don’t get asked that often.”

 

Quickly, she hides her panicked look with a sheepish smile. “The last time I danced was at my wedding.”

 

“Oh now that’s just a crime. Let’s go.”

 

He drags her out onto the floor and places her hands on the correct spots. She grips his shoulder a little too tightly as he starts to gently sway them around. She only trips over his shoes and her dress twice but he’s ever so gentlemanly about it, smiling as he apologizes.

 

“Do you have any hobbies?”

 

“I like to garden. I do an annual contest, last year my garden made it on Gotham’s front page.” She fibs as they twist around.

 

Zsasz is still at the bar, some man blabbing next to him, but his eyes are centered on her completely. He flicks his gaze up and down them and when Atwood turns them she counts the seconds until she can see him again.

 

“That’s amazing. Especially in a city as chaotic as this. I would love to see your home. I’m sure your garden looks great now, even though it’s November.”

 

She slips and he’s quick to catch her, spinning them around. Zsasz shakes his head, amused. He taps himself as if to say ‘that would have never happened with me.’ She frowns and resists the urge to reply back in some childish manner. She’s waited too long to reply she realizes as he repeats himself.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. This music is very good, as is your dancing.” He shuffles them over to the side as more people join them. “I’m finding myself daydreaming. If only my wedding had been this lovely.”

 

“I’m sure you looked gorgeous on the day. If only I had gotten to you first.” He jokes.

 

Zsasz is gone from the bar when they next turn. She frowns.

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

They both stop and pull away, finding the very man of her thoughts standing next to them.

 

“May I cut in?” He asks, raising his brow.

 

Atwood, to his credit, takes it in stride. “Of course.” He directs the next part to her. “I’ll be at our table, with drinks. I’d love to continue our conversation about your garden.” He smiles and takes off, disappearing into the mass of dancing bodies.

 

“Zs-” She trails off as he pointedly eyes the people around them. “Sweetie,” she grimaces as her cheeks heat up, “I didn’t realize you wanted to dance.”

 

He smirks and grabs her, pulling her into his body until only a breath of space is left. “You looked so lovely out here, I couldn’t help myself.”

 

Unlike Atwood, he doesn’t keep his hands in respectable places. Zsasz trails his right hand much lower on her bare back, fingertips just brushing into the inside of the fabric, inches away from the curve of her bottom. His left grasps her right tightly, not at all like Atwood’s polite hold.

 

Everytime he spins them, he pulls her a little closer and suddenly, she finds that she can feel every movement of his before he makes them. It makes it so she doesn’t trip on any new and random step he introduces. Slowly, the nerves she had of being close to him turn to giddiness and she laughs as he twirls her a little too fast.

 

He yanks her back in, grinning. “You’re shaking.” He speaks into the curve of her neck as he bends her back. His breath causes goosebumps to rise and she shuts her eyes, as her heart begins to race.

 

“I’m cold.” She excuses, quickly, as he releases her briefly for a short spin. She peeks out and spots only a blur of colors and people before she’s back to being pressed against him.

 

“I can help with that.” He dips her. More strands of hair fall out of place, falling to brush delicately over her neck as he pulls her back up.

 

Her cheeks burn as his hand presses against her bare skin even more. His hand feels heavenly, she won’t deny it, but it only serves to make her shiver. Her grins and bends down to stare into her eyes. “You only have to ask.” He reminds.

 

Then the music stops and a woman appears on stage. The crowd disperses around him and for a moment, she remains stuck to Zsasz. For a moment, she considers what he would do if she did ask, especially given they were in the middle of a mission. But then, before she can, he’s stepping away, leaving her to her task.

 

Atwood isn’t hard to find, and as promised, he has drinks waiting for her. It doesn’t occur to her until after she’s begun to swallow down the water that he could have spiked it. Although, nowadays most sedatives fail to do much more than make her a little bit sleepy. Still, to be safe, she stops as soon as she feels that the dryness in her throat has dissipated.

 

“You looked like you were having fun out there.” He comments.

 

Right. Husband. Lonely. She didn’t look lonely out there, she’s sure. She still feels like her face is on fire along with other parts of her body. His touch made it feel like Zsasz hadn’t left her at all and she finds herself wishing they could have kept dancing.

 

“He isn’t normally like that. Must be the good mood he’s in, he did just close a billion dollar deal on the way here.” She smiles, willing him to fall for another lie. Doubt still colors his expression so she quickly adds in some more substance to her story. “Besides, he’s been drinking. He smelled like Jack Daniels.”

 

“He likes drinks?”

 

“Very much. We own a distillery.” She pretends to take a sip from her glass.

 

“Valerie, may I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure!” She chirps eagerly, not sure how many more lies she can put out without becoming tangled in the web of it.

 

He seems to struggle with it, starting and re-starting the sentence three times before he just sighs and reaches out to caress her cheek. “Are you safe?”

 

She blinks up at him, mouth dropping open in surprise. She’s not entirely sure what he means by that and she flounders for a second. “I-I...Of course I am.”

 

He shakes his head. Bending down he whispers his next words into her ear. “You have a bruise, sweetheart.” He pointedly digs his finger into her cheek and she winces, pulling away.

 

She thought it had been sufficiently covered but she supposes a man like him has to be observant. She bites her lip. She can play this one of two ways, and she has a feeling the second way will be the quickest way to be alone.

 

She tears up, projecting the last time she saw her brother to the forefront of her mind. She takes all the hurt, anger, panic, and feeds it into her expression. She hunches her shoulders and forces her body to shake as the tears start to slowly drip down her face.

“You-you can’t say anything! Please- he’ll get mad.” She cries softly.

 

Immediately, Atwood’s expression changes, turning into one of deep concern as he starts to lead her away. “Shh, sweetheart no. I would never put you in a dangerous situation like that. Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up so you don’t ruin all that pretty makeup you got on.” He rubs his fingers into her back soothingly as he takes them towards a side door.

 

She prays Zsasz is paying attention because she can’t turn around to look behind her at all. They pass a series of doors and turn down two hallways, mostly filled with waiters who spare them a couple of worried looks. He waves all of them away and eventually she finds herself in an almost excessively big bathroom. There are several totally enclosed stalls and even a sitting area. He leads her to one of the seats before going to a sink and running some water.

 

She sniffles, loudly, as she discreetly pats her thigh. The knife is still there, of course, but double checking makes her feel less anxious about being alone.

 

“Here, let me help.” He appears before her, holding a wet napkin and gently begins dabbing the tears away. She’s glad to see that none of her makeup comes off with it and internally thanks Tobi for chucking her setting spray at her after all.

 

“Thank you.”She breaths, gazing up at him from under her lashes. She briefly recalls that she should also pout her lips slightly, although she’s not sure why.

 

“I’ve never seen anyone look so pretty when they cry.” He chuckles. The napkin teases the corner of her mouth and his eyes bore into hers. Flustered she looks to the wall, studying the golden swirls of the wallpaper. “I can see why he spoils you with gifts.”

 

“He doesn’t like it when I cry.” She whispers. “If I do, he hits me again.”

 

His expression hardens and he shakes his head. “You deserve better. No one should lay their hands on a woman.”

 

She nods and closes her eyes to let him finish wiping her tears. It isn’t until she feels his breath on her face that she notices how close he is. She blinks and finds him right in front of her, his own eyes closed and suddenly it clicks into place that this man is about to kiss her.

 

“Don’t!” She raises her hand to stop his lips. “I can’t!”

 

He freezes, giving her a confused look.

 

It’s then that she realizes her facade could very well fall apart. Valerie, as a character, has little to no reason to reject him. She flirted all night, danced with him, and is clearly suffering at the hands of a husband who hurts her. She should welcome the advances of a man who has paid attention to her, congratulated her on her achievements, and most of all, accepted her tears and comforted her. Valerie should want to kiss him.

 

Except **_she_** doesn't' want to. She doesn’t want her first kiss to be like this, to some crook of a man in a bathroom who thinks she’s someone else. She bites her lip as he pulls away slowly.

 

“I’m sorry. That was forward of me. I shouldn’t have assumed-”

 

The door slams open and they both jump apart. She half expects it to be Zsasz but instead it’s just a gaggle of young teens who eye them both with curiosity. He clears his throat loudly as they begin to whisper to each other.

 

“Come on, let’s get you outside. Maybe it’ll help your mood.”

 

One of the girl’s expression changes and softens. As they are about to leave she grasps her hand. “I really like your dress.”

 

“Thanks.” She murmurs as they leave them behind.

 

Atwood leads them back into the ballroom and she immediately starts searching for Zsasz. He’s not anywhere she can see and panicked she touches her neck. She no longer feels comfortable playing Valerie, the almost-kiss having been too close of a call. It was too personal, and she wants this to be over. Now.

 

The cold air is like a slap to the face when they emerge out into the garden. The hedges are perfectly trimmed and there are a couple of flowers she vaguely recognizes. She points them out, to distract Atwood from the anxiety brewing inside of her.

 

He turns, and carefully pulls out a yellow jasmine and extends it to her. She smiles and reaches out--

 

BANG!

 

She jumps as blood sprays onto her face. She screams, dropping the flower as she cups her mouth in shock. Atwood’s body slumps down, his face frozen as his eyes stare blankly into the distance.

Her name is being said.

 

Hands trembling she touches her face, fingers coming away stained red. Bile rises and she clamps her hand tight over her mouth, tears dripping down her eyes.

 

“Doll?”

 

She snaps her eyes to the murderer, taking in the rolled up sleeve and the box cutter digging into his skin. There are dozens of lines cut into his skin, just on that arm alone and terrified, she realizes it’s his body count.

 

“Breath.” He comes closer, grasping her face, forcing her to stare into her eyes.

 

She gulps down ragged breaths as her vision darkens in the edges. She’s distinctly aware that the gun shot had been loud, that they needed to get out of here but all she can think about is the drips of blood sliding down her face.

 

She’s never seen anyone get shot before.

 

Not like that.

 

“Are you with me, Doll?”

 

 _‘Remember. This is what he does. What you do now.’_ Her mind whispers.

 

Zsasz looks grim as he repeats himself again.

 

Atwood was a criminal. A crook. He stole and he cheated and lied. He wasn’t a good person. They had dealt justice to someone who, otherwise, would have escaped free of any charges.

 

She takes a deep breath. His eyes no longer look like a void of deep black at this (very short) distance. The moonlight makes them shine, a soft brown. Like chocolate.

 

On the balcony, she hears an exclamation of concern. Someone else pulls out their phone, probably to call 911.

 

“I’m with you. Let’s get out of here.”

 

His lips pull into a grin, excitement growing in his expression as sirens begin to sound.

 

“Now, the fun begins.” He cheers.

 

* * *

 

 

The police officers are determined.

 

She’ll give them that. They’ve kept up with them for the last several blocks and she regrets the shoes she’s wearing almost instantly. She keeps expecting for Zsasz to ditch her, seeing as she’s much slower than he is, unused to running in heels. They’re not even that tall, with a chunky heel and yet, every couple of steps she trips, falling into Zsasz’s back.

 

She wishes they had the car.

 

“Shit. They’ve cut us off up there. We have to hide.” He turns sharply into an alley and she narrowly avoids catching the wall.

 

He leads them into another party, quickly dragging her through the crowd. She’s not sure what he had in mind by hiding but when he shoves her into a closet and follows after she admits that it hadn’t been this.

 

“Um, Zsasz?”

 

“Shush. I have to think.”

 

She’s silent, except for her panting breaths. The closet is dark and not very roomy, barely big enough for the two of them to stand facing each other. She winces as a shelf digs into her spine. She shifts closer to Zsasz, hoping to alleviate the pressure. He’s muttering, too softly for her to pick up on his thoughts and she almost jumps as his hand falls to her neck, flexing and unflexing as he works through them.

 

Her eyes flutter shut, relaxing into his grip as best as she can, become easily mold-able to his actions. He hums and seems to have come to a conclusion. “Alright, here’s what we’ll do--”

 

“Police! Nobody move!”

  
  
The shout is heard above the music and everything stops for a moment outside the closet. Zsasz moves towards the door, probably to press his ear to hear better. The music cuts off in the middle of a lyric and she hears rampant chaos as several party goers try and run out. The commotion outside makes her heart hammer as she panics. Zsasz strokes her neck soothingly as they listen. They remain in the closet, tense for several long minutes until finally, the noise stops.

 

“Search the place. We saw him come in here and no one’s seen him exit.We’re going to catch him tonight, boys.”

 

Zsasz huffs. “As if.” He taps her neck, drumming his fingers agitated. “Only reason we’re still being chased is because you’re not fast enough.”

 

“I’m trying.” She hisses. “And if it wasn’t for these shoes-”

 

“Quiet!”

 

She freezes as she hears footsteps coming closer to the closet. Shit. They have nowhere to go and she’s not wanting to go to jail tonight. So, before the door can open, she does the only thing that she can think of to excuse a couple being locked in a closet together.

 

She yanks Zsasz close while simultaneously unzipping the side of the dress so it pools at her feet. He starts to protest but she silences him by pressing their mouths close together. She's too nervous to remember all the tips she was given, her mind blank in her panic. She clutches at him, urging him to lead her. His mouth is warm under hers and it takes a moment for his brain to catch on and he presses closer, tongue snaking out to touch hers. She shivers, and whimpers. His right hand tangles into her hair and the other grabs the back of her knee. He pulls at it and she lets him take it, curling it around his back.

 

It’s nothing like what she pictured her first kiss being like but as he moves his mouth against her, her mind blanks. Her entire body buzzes and she’s overwhelmed with a heat that fills her. Gasping, she tightens her hold on him, hand sliding over his smooth head to cup at his neck, using it to deepen the kiss. He slips his tongue inside, sliding against hers and she shakes.

 

It’s too much.

 

It’s not enough.

 

He whispers her name.

 

She’s lost in the sensation of it and it isn’t until light suddenly fills the room that she remembers why she even started kissing him in the first place.

 

Gasping, she shoves his head into her neck, hiding his identity, and blinks away the stars forming in her vision. Two police officers are poised at the entrance and they both looked completely frozen at the scene before him.

 

The woman clears her throat first. “Um, sorry. We’re looking for a man.”

 

Zsasz licks a patch of skin and she jumps.

 

“Have you...seen anyone, bald, with a woman wearing a gold dress?”

 

She prays they don't look into the shelf she’s crammed her outfit in, or that they stare too hard at Zsasz, who seems perfectly content in tasting her. Her voice comes out a bit high in pitch when she replies. “No--! I, um, I’ve been in here.” She finishes it off with a meek smile.

 

“What about him.” The man asks, gesturing to Zsasz.

 

“He’s been with me the entire night.”

 

They eye them warily and she bites her lip. Gazing past them she sees a group of rattled party goers and a light bulb goes off in her head. Quickly, she makes the most surprised face she can muster, which isn’t that hard because Zsasz has moved his hand to cup her ass.

 

“Shit! My ex-husband is over there. This is the first time I’ve seen him since the split and well,” she gestures to the situation. “Can you please pretend we’re not here?”

 

The man opens his mouth to complain but the woman smacks him.

 

“Sure hon, we’ll be out of here soon, after we escort everyone out.” She smirks and winks at her as she shuts the door.

 

She waits, tense for a moment, worried they’ll double back. Then she feels a set of teeth bite into her neck.

 

“Zsasz!”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope their first kiss wasn't underwhelming! Let me know your thoughts!


	16. Chapter 16

There is a blushing purple mark on her neck.

 

She sighs and tries to pile on more foundation but only succeeds in making her neck look caked up. Grumbling, she snatches a makeup wipe and starts getting rid of the mess she’s made on her skin.

 

“I’ll just wear a scarf.” She nods and reaches into a drawer and chooses a black one.

 

She’s supposed to be meeting Zsasz today. Something about learning the ins and outs. Whatever that means. Gazing in the mirror she can’t help but wish she was wearing yesterday’s dress again. She feels a little like Cinderella, after the ball. Except...would that make Zsasz her fairy godmother or her prince?”

 

Face rapidly growing hot she turns away, scolding herself for having such thoughts. Even now, it takes everything in her to keep her mind away from their kiss. _Her_ ** _first_** **_kiss._**

 

She had refused to say anything on it once they had escaped and Zsasz followed her lead, for once. He didn’t say anything after they reached the safety of the apartment building, just smirking as he eyed her neck before slipping away into his office.

 

She isn’t sure how she’s going to be professional at their next meeting. Should she pretend it never happened? Should she acknowledge that it happened? Should she tell him he was a good kisser and that he should have kept-

 

No!

 

She can’t stay in her bedroom another second longer. She’ll just end up driving herself insane. Rushing through putting on her combat boots she stumbles down stairs. Eva is curled up on the sofa.

 

“Hi Eva!”

 

Eva remains quiet, eyes looking past the contents of her drink and beyond.

 

“Eva?” She reaches her and gently taps her shoulder.

 

Almost immediately there’s a knife in her face and she holds her hands up in surrender.

 

“Woah! It’s me!”

 

Eva blinks before taking her in. “Scarf? It’s very hot in here. Why?”

 

She chews her lip and blushes furiously as she tugs on the fabric. It takes a moment but it seems Eva has come to a conclusion as a sly grin takes up her features.

 

“You did something naughty!” She cheers, setting her cup aside to crowd her, attempting to tug the scarf away. “Show me!”

 

She blocks the attempts surprisingly well and Eva pauses, taking her in. “You’ve gotten good.” A frown. “No, better. You’ve gotten better.” She smirks. “But I am best!” She charges forward.

 

She steps back, trying to dodge the little hispanic but instead trips over the coffee table and finds herself falling backwards as they crash into each other. A yelp leaves her lips as they land with a loud thud and Eva lets out a triumphant yell. In her fist, is her scarf. Eva’s eyes zero in on her neck and she claps a hand on her mouth in surprise.

 

“Wow! Naughty indeed!” She laughs, poking at it, causing embarrassment to rise at her jokes.

 

“With who?”

 

Nervously, she snatches the scarf back as soon as she sees Eva’s grip slacken. She winds it twice around her neck, to ensure no one else would remove it so easily.

 

“No one important!” She squeaks, slapping at Eva’s hands as she tried to inspect her neck again. “You wouldn’t know him.”

 

Eva sighs dreamily. “Oh to be young and in love like you and Tobi.”

 

“I’m not in love with-wait Tobi?”

 

Eva grins, eyes lighting up. “Yes! I caught little Tobi, with a boy!”

 

Mouth dropping, she stares surprised. “You’re kidding! Tobi thinks boys are ridiculously stupid.” More than once she had gone off on a tangent about boys not having a clue-oh. It hadn’t been a generalization, it wasn’t about _boys_ but instead about _a_ boy.

 

Seeing the realization in  her face Eva pats her hands. “She was acting weird our last outing, then she took off as soon as it was finished. I got worried so I followed and there she was! But she doesn’t know I know so!” Eva stuck her hand in her face, raising her index finger to signify silence.

 

She nods, as she hears the alarm on her phone beep. Time to go.

 

“I promise I won’t say anything.” She pushes at Eva’s hands and the girl releases her, satisfied with her word.

“Have fun!” Eva calls cheerily as she exits the room to meet Zsasz.

 

She mulls over Tobi and her crush as she waits outside of the office door. She never once considered that the girl might have someone, she never gave any indication even when Josie, who seemed to have someone new every week, mooned over her latest catch.

 

Maybe Tobi could help detangle her feelings? But to ask that, she’d have to reveal several things. As the door opened and the source of all her problems walked out, she blushed. She definitely didn’t want to reveal to Tobi that she had a crush on their boss.

 

Her hands went to her neck almost immediately, reassuring herself that the scarf was still in place. Zsasz was completely absorbed with whoever was on the phone and he snapped his fingers at her to follow. He was walking much faster than she was used to and she rushes to keep up, unwilling to fall behind when he had such an intense look on her face. She had yet to make Zsasz angry with her and she wasn’t about to start now.

 

He barely waited until her seat belt was buckled before he was tearing out onto the road, the smell of burning rubber filling her nose. She grasps tightly to the seat, clenching her eyes shut and counting. She hears several honks and what could be them knocking into a sign. All the while Zsasz remains on the phone.

 

“Boss, no I’m on my way right now. Maybe five minutes out. Trust me, he’ll fall for it. He cares too much about her. Love is his weakness.”

 

She snaps her eyes to him, eyeing the matter of fact way he says this. She wonders if he thinks love is a weakness in general. If it is, she should squash the beginnings of sentiment forming in her heart. She’s never liked anyone, not really, she’s not sure how she would handle heartbreak. She thinks back to the neighbor, who died alone, pining after the man who married her sister. She still remembers how pitiful she was, letting her get away with stealing from her several times until finally, she just asked for company in exchange for letting her take things. Zsasz is right. Love makes one weak.

 

Steeling herself, she makes a decision. She will not mention their kiss, or the mark on her neck. She will pretend it never happened. If she does that, maybe he’ll stop confusing her. Maybe he’ll just keep giving her missions and letting her learn without teasing her.

 

Zsasz clicks the phone shut and tosses it into the cup holder. “You’d think this was his first time with a warrant out for him.” He tsks.

_‘Warrant?’_

 

She squirms in the seat as they slow down, the mansions slowly become more widespread until finally they reach Don Falcone’s. He parks and sighs, taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders to release whatever tension had built up.

 

“I had different plans for today. A calm day of paperwork and a meeting I wanted you to sit in.” She stares curiously at him. “But Jim _fucking_ Gordon just had to go and arrest the Major!”

 

Her jaw drops. “He arrested the Major?” She repeats.

 

Zsasz throws her a look and she snaps her mouth shut. He looks at her a little too long, sliding his gaze like a physical touch over her form. He tilts his head and reaches out, tugging on the scarf. Her breath hitches as he plays with the ends.

 

“New look?” He asks innocently, but his eyes are glowing as he tugs the scarf.

 

She swallows dryly, mind blank of any response.

 

_Please. Something distract him._

 

He starts to unwind it, licking his lips when his phone starts ringing.

 

_Thank God._

 

Instantly, his playful demeanor is gone and he lets out a loud sigh, annoyance evident in his face as he snatches the phone up.

 

“Coming, Sir. Just parked.”

 

_Thank Don Falcone, more like._

 

To her. “Later.” He mouths.

 

Well shit.

 

* * *

 

 

“Liza?”

 

“(Y/N)?”

 

They speak at the same time, surprise coloring both their tones. She drops her mixing bowl, splattering the perfect white counters with batter.

 

She pales, eyes seeking Zsasz out for an explanation. Instead he puts on a mockingly shocked face as he shrugs. “What a surprise.” He snatches her wrist and starts dragging her away. “You two can catch up later, right now we have to interrogate someone.”

 

She turns, screwing her face into an apologetic look as she waves at Liza who looks positively horrified.

 

“Why is she here?”

 

Zsasz turns and starts descending down some stairs to a rather ominous looking door. It was not hardwood like the others, instead it was metal and it didn’t even creak when he opened it.

 

“She’s dating Don Falcone.”

 

She falters, nearly tripping down the random step that appeared in the dark corridor.

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“Nope. That’s why I wanted you to get close. By the way, don’t tell **anyone** about that, not yet. Not even Falcone.”

 

She chews her lip nervously, the dark getting harder to navigate as she’s forced to rely on Zsasz. She hopes he doesn’t let go of her wrist any time soon.

 

“Yes sir.” She mumbles when his grip tightens in question. He relaxes as they come to a door illuminated by a flickering light bulb that barely casts a glow. He knocks cheerfully.

 

“Who's there?”

 

He smirks and throws open the door, hand falling off of her. She hangs back for a minute as he steps in, talking a mile a minute.

 

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty! We have to get you ready for the ball--”

“Wrong princess.” The woman snarks.

 

A laugh bubbles up in her throat and she clears her throat to cover it when both their heads swing towards her. She meekly steps in as Zsasz says her name.

 

“Meet Barbara Kean, our ticket to controlling Jim Gordon.”

 

The woman laughs bitterly, head swinging around to face Zsasz despite the blindfold covering her eyes. Zsasz clicks on a blinding spotlight that brings white spots to her vision for a moment.

 

“You’re wrong. Jim loves justice more than he loves me.”

 

“Ooh problems in paradise?” Zsasz gleefully jeers as he starts messing with the things on the table.

 

From the entrance she can’t tell what they are and she tentatively shifts closer. She spots a carving knife first. Then a hacksaw, a hammer, a screwdriver, a whip. The more she looks the sicker she gets and she tosses a worried glance at Barbara. She doesn’t want to hurt her, so far she seems like a victim, someone who should have stayed away. Why should they torture her for being in love with a man who enjoys looking for trouble?

 

She shakes her head vehemently as Zsasz raises the hammer. He frowns and picks up the hacksaw. Paling, she picks out the least terrifying thing on the table, a cloth and a bottle of water. Surely, those can’t be used for torture?

 

“Now, not that I haven’t been enjoying my stay here, when will I get to leave?” Her tone is confident but the way her body shakes says otherwise.

 

“About that...Don Falcone doesn’t believe that you told him everything.”

 

“What? But I did! I told him about Jim’s plan and-”

 

“Shhh,” Zsasz soothes. “He just wants to be sure. He said I couldn’t hurt you too badly.”

 

“No! I told you earlier! I wouldn’t lie. Please, I swear. I’m not a liar, please--”

 

She flinches as Barbara begs, voice breaking as Zsasz loudly steps towards her. She doesn’t say anything, just swallows dryly. She can’t be here for this. She can’t. But Zsasz gestures for her to come closer and her feet move unbidden.

 

It’s either this or the streets, she reminds herself.

 

Zsasz snatches Barbara’s head back, clutching her hair as she starts to cry. “Deep breath.” He warns as he shoves the cloth her nose and mouth as soon as she complies, pouring water over it. Horrified, she watches as Barbara chokes, sputtering under the endless rain. He lets it go on for a couple seconds before dragging the cloth away.

 

“How long has Jim been planning this?”

 

“I don't know! He doesn’t tell me anythin-”

 

He shoves the cloth back. More water.

 

“How long?” He shouts.

 

Body shaking, her heart starts racing. She can’t be here. She can’t.

 

_“Where were you?”_

 

_Head under the bath._

 

_Hands scrabbling for the edges._

 

_Nothing._

 

_“Who did you talk to!”_

 

_Water burning._

 

She snatches the cloth and water from him when he next let's Barbara up. His head snaps to her and for the first time in a long while she feels fear. She swallows dryly and pastes on a compliant expression. “Let me.” She whispers.

 

He regards her with a surveying expression before he sweeps his hands, letting her take over as he steps away to sit on the chair in front of them.

 

She takes a shaky breath and strokes Barbara’s face soothingly. “Barbara, please. How long? Did you know he was planning this?”

 

She shakes her head desperately. “No, no, never. I found out he was doing this because he sent me away. I came straight here, I swear!”

 

She hums softly and places the cloth back over her face, trickling a little water, not enough to make it hard to breathe but a warning. Barbara whimpers.

 

“Do you know if he has any evidence?” She trickles some more water, feeling awfully aware of Zsasz’s eyes boring into her.

 

“No! Warrants are all he has, just warrants. I asked, he got the blank ones and filled them out himself!”

 

“Who did you ask, Barbara. Details.” She says sternly, when Zsasz shifts.

 

“Alvarez! He finds me attractive, I just had to show up when he was about to go to lunch, invite him out.” She cries.

 

She turns to Zsasz. She shakes the nearly empty bottle and he considers Barbara, who’s still spouting random bits of information. He nods and stands up heading for the door. Sighing in relief she drops the water bottle and snatches the blindfold away.

 

“Good. You did good.” She whispers, wiping tears and makeup from her face as she looks into Barbara’s brilliantly blue eyes.

  
The woman’s relief is palpable and she smiles. “Thank you. Thank you.” She whispers, again and again as she melts into her grip.

 

She continues to sooth Barbara, doing her best to warm her up from the chill her skin has absorbed. She hopes that they don't have to ask her anymore questions.

 

Zsasz storms back in and Barbara eyes him as she curls into herself. “It’s your lucky day, sweetheart. You’re coming upstairs.” He flickers his gaze away from Barbara, eyeing the way she runs her hands soothingly over the shaking woman. “Lunch time.” He turns on his heel and marches out.

 

She rushes to undo all the ropes as his steps start to fade away. Barbara nearly falls when she stands and she’s forced to help the woman walk.

“My legs are numb.” She whispers, body trembling.

 

“It’s okay.” Except it isn’t. She can tell that this wasn’t the first time she’d been spoken to, the bruise and cut on her face looking extremely painful as she winces.

 

“Why are you with him?” Barbara questions, turning her piercing eyes on her. It’s almost unfair how pretty she looks right now, despite everything.

 

She carefully leads her up the stairs, overly aware that Zsasz is eyeing the two of them.

 

“I have no choice. I gave myself up, for my brother.” She says truthfully and Barbara’s expression softens.

 

“I hope Jim gets him.” She hisses before they get within earshot. She pushes away, sticking her head high in the air. She refuses Zsasz’s grip and walks just behind him.

 

Her stomach turns and she tugs on her scarf, overly aware that Barbara was getting the wrong impression of her boss. Or was it the other way around? Maybe Zsasz was pretending to get her loyalty. What faster way is there, for a woman who had never felt any sort of good attention from men, than to give her everything she never thought she wanted?

 

Heart sinking, they enter the kitchen again, Liza working hard on another batch of batter it seemed. Barbara promptly sits herself down, eyeing everyone in the room hatefully.

 

“So Liza, your boyfriend?” She asks, trying to break the tension as Zsasz keeps his eyes on everyone in the most unsettling fashion. Even she feels a little weird about it.

 

“Yes.” She says nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t want to tell you, in case it scared you.” Her eyes flick over to Zsasz. “But well, I don’t suppose much would frighten you if you’re with him.”

 

She looks to Zsasz for guidance but he seems content in letting her flounder. She smiles weakly and moves out of the way for Liza to place the cupcake tin into the oven.

 

“Well, like you said. I would have told you, except I didn’t want to frighten you.”

 

Liza nods but when they meet each other’s gazes she becomes very much aware that the Liza that she knows is a fake. There is a calculating look on Liza’s face and when she glances to the right, she knows that all her suspicions are true. Liza is a liar, but the question is, why and how much of all of it is a lie. She wonders if Liza is even her real name. She wonders how Fish Mooney fits into all of this.

 

The kitchen fades into the background as she starts turning over the things she knows in her mind. No longer is she focused on Zsasz, or even Barbara who she had helped torture.  She stares at Liza, taking in how she begins to frantically put together yet another batch. For the homeless, she always said. Why was Fish Mooney interested in a girl who baked for the homeless? A girl who was, apparently, dating Don Falcone.  Fish who not even two days ago almost shot her over her connection with Liza. But why? Who was Liza really? Aside from a couple outings and text message conversations how well did she know this woman?

 

As she stares at her back, she realizes a couple things. One, Liza has never, ever told her anything about this boyfriend, except about the chickens. Two, Liza once misspoke about a friend of hers, someone who she was frightened of. Three, Fish Mooney had been following one of them and it certainly hadn’t been her. She was nobody, not really, and there’s not a lot that could link her to knowing who had ordered the hit on Falcone especially since her father would have never revealed that she knew the code for his journal. In fact, no one knew about his extensive records. No, Fish was following Liza. Liza and Fish.

 

Her eyes widen and a cold chill fills her. She stands abruptly and rushes out of the kitchen, shouting that she needs the restroom. It feels like the walls are spinning and she takes several random turns, all the while knowing that there is someone following her. She screams when hands catch her, terrified of what she has figured out.

 

“Stop it.” He admonishes in a calm tone.

 

Except she can’t. She wants Liza to be exactly as she appears, a soft girl who was too good to be stuck in Gotham. Not this!

 

She shoves his hands away, crying as the reality of it all starts crashing down on her. “You wanted me to get close because you knew!” She shouts as she drops suddenly, dragging him down with her in a flurry of limbs and emotion.

 

She half expects him to argue with her but instead he sits and lets her rage on for several long moments until eventually she starts to feel ridiculous about her freak out. She takes deep breaths, centering herself before she droops into his hands, unwilling to fight against him.

 

“Yes and no. I had my suspicions. Which I wanted your help confirming. She knew everyone else, more or less, because they’re recognized Zsaszettes but not you. You were the only one who could find out.”

 

She swallows. It mildly hurts that she was chosen out of convenience and not out of perceived skill but she squashes it down. This isn’t about her. Not anymore. If she tells Falcone what she discovered, Liza is done. Liza who’s become her friend. Liza who constantly sends her videos of pianists after having discovered her love for classical music. Liza who offered to help her recreate her late mother’s favorite dish despite there being no recipe. Liza who was the first friend she made outside of the Zsaszette’s.

 

“She’s going to die.” She acknowledges miserably as Zsasz pulls away.

 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her. Carefully, he reaches over and plucks a frame off a table. She glances around to find that they’re on the floor in the middle of a sitting room. Everything looks meticulously arranged and maintained but going off the lack of life in it she assumes it goes largely unused. As great a place for a meltdown as any.

 

“Do you recognize this woman?”

 

She frowns as he shoves the picture in her face. The color drains as she realizes it’s the same woman as the one in Liza’s home. She reaches out and touches her face before moving down and touching the face of a young boy standing in her embrace. Her son, if the similarities are anything to go by.

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“This is Don Falcone’s mother.”

 

Her hand drops and her stomach plummets to her feet. This is it. The last puzzle piece. Why Fish was using Liza, and for what.

 

“So this is Fish’s latest scheme.” She whispers. “That woman…”

 

“Is going to pay.” Zsasz finishes and jumps up, holding a hand out to her.

 

She eyes it for a moment, wondering if she should remain involved like she is. If she takes his hand...Liza is going to die, not if but when. Liza who was lying. How much had Liza lied about? Was she ever her friend? Maybe the blonde knew all along who she was, that if she fooled her she might fool Zsasz and lay him off her scent. To fool a man who, as far as she was aware, was one of the better things to happen the Gotham in a long time. He dismantled sex trafficking, for the most part, on his side of business. If it wasn’t for Maroni there would be none in Gotham. Eva owed her life to Zsasz, who had been acting on orders of Falcone.

 

Zsasz who she had just watch torture an innocent woman.

 

Zsasz who kissed her.

 

Zsasz who killed that cop in the newspaper.

 

Zsasz who’s paying for the tutors.

 

Zsasz who killed her father.

 

Zsasz who spared her brother.

 

Zsasz who freed her.

 

She takes his hand.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys were probably hoping for more romance but hey, shit happens in Gotham. Not every chapter can include making out in a closet in the middle of a police chase! Hope you enjoyed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an extended ending which cracks me up buuut hope you enjoy this chapter!

Zsasz led her to a bathroom, with simple instructions to collect herself. 

 

Feeling properly exhausted and a little embarrassed, she abuses this and remains in the bathroom for far longer than she should have. Her head is pounding and when she walks back to the kitchen, she sees that Liza is alone, both Barbara and Zsasz are gone. 

 

She pauses, and wrings her hands nervously. She doesn’t want to even look at the woman, she keeps picturing her dead, with a bullet hole in her head. 

 

“Oh, Jesus, you spooked me.” Liza laughs nervously as she turns, even jumping a little.

 

“Sorry, I’m used to being quiet.” She steps in.

 

“Right, because of your dad.” Liza smiles as she sets down a batch of muffins. The counters are lined with them and she takes note of a special one she’s set down. It looks different than the others and she raises a brow. 

 

“Because of my father.” She repeats, voice sounding awfully far away from her. 

 

Would Fish ever think to use poison again? Surely she wouldn’t, not since it failed so spectacularly with her father. And yet...she had the perfect way to do it. Falcone would never have anyone taste test anything his sweet Liza would prepare for him. Why would he, when she’s been cooking for him for this long?

 

The cold dread grows, continuing to build when suddenly Zsasz appears. 

 

“Let’s go Doll.” He looks pissed off.

 

She tosses Liza a look, wishing she could warn her. Tell her it’s time to cut her losses and disappear from Gotham. Instead, she waves. 

 

He snaps her name.

 

He hardly says her name. 

 

A chill runs down her spine and she hurries to catch up to him.

 

He hits the gas pedal so hard that the tires squeal and she does her best to be as invisible as possible during their drive back. His hands flex on the steering wheel and he’s taking deep breaths through his nose. Like he’s trying to calm down except, as he slams through three red lights, it’s entirely obvious he can’t.

 

Unease grows in her stomach as he seethes, gritting his teeth. She just needs to make it home, where she can distance herself from him. She can see the apartment growing in the distance and before she can feel any semblance of relief he takes a sharp turn left. Body stiffening, she clutches the door’s handle. 

 

She could jump.

 

He rounds the corner, so tightly, the car raises slightly on her side. Unbidden, a yelp leaves her lips. He screeches to a halt suddenly and turns to her. The cars behind them honk before realizing their mistake and creeping around the black car. Zsasz doesn’t even spare them a glance.

 

“You.”

 

She freezes, hand still stuck on the handle. His eyes were murderous as they took in her shaking form.

 

“You’re scared.” He says this with disgust.

 

It’s like she’s bit into something sour and her face screws up. She doesn’t know what to say. 

 

“Get out.” He demands. 

 

She looks to the side and tentatively let’s go of the handle. She reaches out and grabs the hand closest to her, heart hammering. “I am ...but I’m yours. I won’t leave because I’m scared.”

 

He glares into her, refusing to soften under her look. “You didn’t want me to hurt her.”

 

She bites her lip. “She was innocent.”

 

“I kill people, innocent people.”

 

She tightens her grip. “ I will never tell you what to do with yourself, would never pretend to have that sort of control but...I can’t.”

 

“What if I order you to? To kill someone even if they don’t deserve it?” 

 

She stares into his eyes, peering into the darkness of him. 

 

How did he get here? 

 

She inhales deeply, afraid of her own admittance, afraid that at the root of it all...she took his hand back there, she’s holding his hand now. She would always choose to be by his side, she’s unwilling to return to the life she had before, to be alone and to have all her days bleed into each other.

 

He reaches out with the other hand, and tugs at the scarf she’s wearing, pulling closer. “Would you disobey?”

 

She casts her eyes downward, wary of his nearness. Wary of the way her heart races. “No. I would do it...if it was an order.”

 

The air in the car seems to change. His anger, rage, all of it, just seeps out into the road. He sighs and digs his hand into her hair, yanking her so she’s centimeters away from his face. His other hand escapes her grip to wrap itself into the loose bit of her scarf. 

 

“You would do anything I asked, wouldn’t you?” He asks, eyes searching her face. “If it was an order?”

 

“Yes.” She doesn’t know how to clarify her thoughts into words, how she’d murder someone, how she’d torture anyone, if he asked her to. He had her in the palm of his hand. Had her vow and her loyalty. What more could he want?

 

“Kiss me.”

 

Her eyes widen and she falters, her brain fizzling out. “Kiss...kiss you?” She squeaks.

 

He doesn’t even smirk, his face is entirely serious. “Yes. Kiss me. Prove it.”

 

Shakily she raises a hand and cups his face, noticing how his expression shifts when she does. Not quite sinking into her warmth but more like an acknowledgement of it. “I don’t...know how.” She mutters, nervously.

 

“You kissed me before.”

 

Right.

 

“I...I just did what I saw in a movie once.” She licks her lips. “I don’t know how to...do it right.”

 

He lets out a breath, letting the heat of it caress her lips and her mind blanks. “Doll. Kiss me or I’ll kiss you and I promise those will be two very different experiences.”

 

Blushing, she angles herself closer, careful with the center console. “Close your eyes.”

 

His lips quirk and he complies, eyelashes casting shadows on his angled cheeks. Zsasz really is beautiful, in the strangest of ways. Like a jagged cliff above an ocean. Beautiful. Deadly. 

 

She wants it. 

 

She inhales shakily before closing her own eyes. She nearly jumps when she brushes her lips against him, pulling away but his hand is right there in her hair, urging her back. He doesn’t press her more than that, letting her take control.

 

 His mouth is warm against hers, and it just might be the only soft part of him.

 

Her entire body erupts in tingles and surges of hot electricity. 

 

She molds her lips to them, opening her mouth and licking at him, testing his taste.

 

Her face feels like it's on fire as she tugs him closer, angling her head to get more of him. 

 

 Someone who doesn’t know him would have expected blood. She finds icing, the sweetness of it so unlike the rest of him.

 

His hand is on her face, holding her there, like she might run away and at first she’s not sure why. 

 

Then, suddenly his tongue is there, touching hers and it's all too much. She shoves herself away, chest feeling like it’s about to burst. 

 

She does the first thing she can think of when she comes to and that’s to wipe her mouth. She can still feel his touch there and she screws her eyes shut as she pants. She grapples for self control she doesn’t feel like she has anymore. She flashes her gaze to Zsasz.

 

“Why did you pull away?” He says as he leans against his side of the door, putting space between them although, if his hands reveal anything from their rapid opening and closing motion, he would have liked to keep going. 

 

“Why did you make me kiss you.”

 

He shrugs. “Because you wanted to. Even now...it’s written all over your face.” 

 

Before she can reply a knock sounds from her window. Face flushed, she tentatively rolls down the window for the police officer. She feels like she’s in trouble, like the officer would take one look at her and arrest her for kissing a criminal. 

 

“Is something wrong with the vehicle? We can tow it but you need to have your emergency lights on-”   
  


“Nothing’s wrong.” Zsasz is up next to her suddenly, face tucked into her shoulder as he glares up at the officer. 

 

The man takes a moment but his face whitens with realization and he rapidly back pedals. “O-of course Mr. Zsasz! Your car is in perfect condition, anywho- uh...have a nice day!” His voice cracks at the end of it and with that he turns tail and runs back to his buddy. 

 

She watches them argue for a moment before slowly rolling the window back up. “Isn’t there a warrant out for us right now?”

 

Zsasz chuckles, drawing out goosebumps. “You’re still worried about that? Don’t you know I’m untouchable?”

 

She angles her head and stares into his eyes, drinking in the way his features have relaxed now. He’s calmer now, whatever fury from before has left him. “Of course, sir.” 

 

He smirks and reaches out to pat her head. “We’re going to go somewhere now. Buckle up.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

“A bar?”

 

“It’s not  _ just  _ a bar. It’s also a disco!” He throws over his shoulder.

 

She blinks after him, before throwing a glance around at the crowd that they’ve cut in front of. 

 

“Disco?” She mutters to herself. “Just how old are you?”

 

He doesn’t reply, just glances at the hulking form of the bouncer. He doesn’t even look at the list, just steps aside for Zsasz. He does, however, stop her, when she gets to the entrance. 

 

“Name?” The man arches an eyebrow, sizing up her form. She takes a step back, feeling the barest tingling sense of danger radiating off this man. 

 

“Don’t bother, she’s with me.” He tugs on her wrist as he yanks her past. 

 

The music sounds three times as loud inside as it did outside and she fights to be heard over the beat, shouting. “Zsasz, I’m not exactly dressed for this-” she protests as Zsasz shoves them past a group. She grimaces as she’s given a glare by a woman in a skin tight dress. 

 

“You look fine. We need drinks.” He snaps his fingers at a bartender and shoves his way through to VIP.

His grip slides down past her wrist and grasps onto her hand as they past a rather large mass of people. Startled, she glances up but he’s too busy glaring daggers at a stubborn employee who wouldn’t get a hint and move. 

 

“You need to be on the list to-

 

Zsasz flashes a gun and the employee pales. “You know what, screw the list. You can have the Rockstar booth with free drinks all night! I’ll send the bartender right away-”   
  


“Don’t bother. They know someone important is here.” Zsasz says snidely and she watches the man run off trembling. 

 

“You don’t have to be so mean, you know.” She’s stuck remembering the last time she worked at a bar, thinking of how she had felt just as afraid as the employee does now. Hard to remember that was her a month ago, it feels like it was someone else’s life, not hers.

 

“Mean is who I am, Doll.” His hand flexes around her and she blushes, reminded that he’s holding her hand. 

 

She knows it’s because of the crowd but it still makes her heart flutter and stomach flip. His hand is so big compared to hers and when they sit down, he doesn’t let go. She squirms as she’s tugged down right next to him. Even though they’re both wearing pants she can feel the heat of him and it sinks down into her bones, reminding her of the kiss she gave him. Her mouth tingles. 

 

“What do you think?”

 

_ ‘I think we should kiss again.’  _

 

Her mouth parts and she finds herself completely stuck on his image. He’s too busy casting looks at their surroundings to notice the way she keeps glancing from his eyes to his lips. He was right. She wants to. 

 

“The booth, do you like it?”

 

“R-right.” She stutters, darting her gaze away when he turns his head to focus on her. 

 

The booth is gorgeous, rich red leather seats and even some curtain although she’s not sure why they would be needed. From here they can see the entire club.

 

“It’s nice.” She decides, shrugging as the bartender comes up to them. 

 

“Just nice? Damn Doll, you’re hard to impress.”

Her cheeks flame and she sputters, backtracking and pointing out all the nice details she noticed when she realizes he’s just messing with her. She grumbles, crossing her arms.

 

“Don’t pout like that, you make it hard to be good.” His eyes flash as he turns away, acknowledging the bartender who looks more than a little anxious.

 

“You. Do you remember my favorite drink?” 

 

The bartender nods quickly. “I memorized it.”

 

“Perfect. I want those to keep coming until I tell you to stop. Bring me something that doesn’t taste like alcohol for her.” He angles his head towards her and the bartender sizes her up for a moment, his unease melting away until a contemplating look takes hold. 

 

“You look like a summer season type of girl, something with fruit…”The man mutters and she shoots a confused look to Zsasz who’s grinning. 

 

Then, without a word, he takes off, his eyes shining brilliantly.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Hm, he designs drinks based on people. Used to work in a real fancy joint until he tried to kill the boss, now he’s here.” Zsasz reaches out and grabs a bottle of champagne, wrinkling his nose. “Doll, take notes. Complimentary champagne is for chumps. They never put out any of the good stuff and if it looks good, I guarantee it’s been drained and switched for something cheap.”

 

“Oh.” She wrinkles her nose. Her bar never did any of that, it was exactly what it looked like. A shitty bar with shitty alcohol and aside from the house special, a drink their owner’s son had come up with, all of it was barely enjoyable.

 

The bartender returned shortly after Zsasz finished perusing the complimentary drinks at the table, all of which disgusted him apparently. He was a hard man to satisfy. 

 

“Here, hope you enjoy. Let the waiter know if he should keep bringing these for the lady.” Then, surprisingly, the man bowed his head a little and took off.

 

Zsasz drank nearly half of his drink before she even worked up the courage to grasp her glowing drink. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, wondering if it was safe for it to look like hazardous waste. 

 

“Aren’t you going to try it?”

She bites her lip, nervously picking it up. “It looks like it’ll kill me.”

 

Zsasz groans, annoyed. “You’re telling me that after everything that happened to you, you’re scared of drinking a mystery cocktail. Come on, Doll. Thought you were braver than that.”

 

She narrows her eyes and before she can stop herself from rising to the bait she’s got her lips around the bendy straw, sucking a mouthful up. 

 

“Oh!”

 

It melts into her mouth and as Zsasz had instructed, it tastes nothing like alcohol. It tastes like strawberries and oranges. Then, the next sip tastes like watermelon and mangoes. Entranced, she keeps going, eyes closing to enjoy the slushy-like consistency and before long, her straw  comes up empty. She pulls away, brain slightly pounding from the chill. 

 

“Holy shit Doll!” Zsasz laughs. “You really went for it!” 

 

Blushing, she grins at him, tucking a strand that had escaped her high ponytail behind her ear nervously. “It tastes good.” 

 

“Well I was going to ask for a taste but…” His eyes glance down to her empty cup before settling on her face. 

 

Reflexively, her eyes dart to his mouth. A braver version of herself would have kissed him to give him a taste. Instead, she promises to let him have the first sip of the next one. He grins.

 

“Want to try mine?”

 

It’s completely black, almost the antithesis to her white glowing one. She sniffs it curiously for a minute, noting that it didn’t have an obvious alcoholic scent. She expected his favorite drink to stink of whiskey or scotch, something manly, like what Falcone had given her. She sips it carefully, closing her eyes. It tastes almost exactly like cotton candy. She blinks.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

She nods and takes another sip before gesturing for him to have the rest. “No, it’s okay. He’s about to bring me more, look.”

 

Sure enough, a waiter is on his way, with another black drink. 

 

She’s not sure how many drinks she has by the time the alcohol catches up to her. Her last meal had been hours before the incident with Barbara Kean and now, it feels like it’s taken control of her entire body. She’s completely melted into the seats and she keeps giggling whenever the lights flash against her outstretched hand. 

 

“You’re drunk.” Zsasz laughs as he nudges her away from his cup, which she had been sneakily (or not so sneakily) trying to steal.

 

“I’m not.” Her voice comes out surprisingly whiny and she hiccups. “I don’t get drunk.”

 

“Sure you’re not Doll. Whats four times four?”

 

She frowns, bringing her hands up to count on them. Staring blankly, she starts over six times before sighing miserably. “I don’t have enough fingers. We need to go to the hospital.”

 

He laughs again. “You’re fine Doll, look I have the same number.” He shows her his hands and her eyes light up.

 

She grabs them, bringing both of them to cup her face, relishing in the cool touch. She grins doopily at him.The music changes and suddenly a song she recognized starts playing. She casts a longing look to the dance floor, body thrumming with nervous energy from the alcohol. Zsasz turns around, realizing her want.

 

“Come on, one dance won’t hurt. Then, we’re going home.”

 

She cheers, scrambling out of the booth, nearly falling on her face if it wasn’t for Zsasz’s grip on her waist. His hands sear into her and she takes a dizzying moment to collect herself. She wants him to touch her. E v e r y w h e r e.

 

The song hits the first chorus and that grabs her attention almost as immediately dragging her thoughts away from Zsasz’s grip. She manages not to trip every step of the way as she drags Zsasz into the dance floor. 

 

“I’ve never been to a club!” She announces, as they get absorbed by the crowd. 

 

“Doll did you live under a rock before I met you?” He arches a brow as he pulls her closer.

 

“No! I lived in an apartment!”

 

He shakes his head. “Of course. Silly me.”

 

She throws her hands up, spinning as she lets the music take her away. It’s everywhere, in her ears, her blood, her heartbeat. And so is Zsasz. He reaches out and drags his hands down her form as she presses her back to his front. He lets her sway, just barely guiding her movements to the beat, more content with keeping her away from the men prowling the dance floor than actively trying to dance.

 

It’s really her, who changes the way they’re dancing. She feels hungry, hungry for what she’s not sure but the song changes and suddenly it’s like a burning need in her. The song is terribly explicit and she mouths along to the lyrics, remembering them from a day at the bar, where they chose to close early for Sylvia’s birthday. She thinks back to the movements she was shown and feels a growing spark of excitement fill her.

 

She wants it. 

 

She moves closer, purposely pushing her ass against his front, rolling her body as she drags her hands up behind her, latching them onto his neck, pulling him so his face is pressed against hers. Her breath hitches as she closes her eyes, falling into the feeling of his body against hers. 

 

“What are you doing?” He asks.

 

She wants it. 

 

He asks again. 

 

She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Not really. She just knows he isn't close enough, that the music demands him to be closer and so she yanks him, grinding with fervour. She takes her left hand and grabs his, dragging it down her front and dipping it under her top. His fingers brush against the swell of her breasts, rough and she moans breathily. His breath starts changing, growing heavy as she feels him harden behind her and just as she thinks she’s grown the courage to do more he pulls away. 

 

She wants it. 

 

“No.”

 

She frowns, feeling the insecurity rise and she steps back, crossing her arms defensively in front of her. “No?”

 

His lips form a thin line and he shifts. “You’re not acting like yourself right now. No.”

 

“I am perfectly fine! You’re just making excuses.” She shouts, embarrassment rising as several people throw them weird looks. She wants the fog machine to turn back on, if only to dump the both of them back into their own little world away from prying eyes. 

 

She wants it. 

 

He doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand against his scalp as he takes a deep breath. 

 

She wants it.

 

But did  _ he _ want it?

 

Horror dawns on her. “Did I- Did I take advantage of this? Did you not want to?”

 

His sharp eyes snap back to her, eyes widening. Panic swells in her chest and before he can reply she’s running.She’s shoving her way through the crowd as best as she can with alcohol slowing her movements. Zsasz is hot on her heels but she has the advantage of leaving first as well as being smaller. She disappears through a random door and finds herself engulfed in cool air. 

 

It’s an alley.

 

The wind brings to attention her tears and she raises a hand. “You stupid idiot.” She hisses as she slams her booted foot against the brick. It barely registers through the thick haze of alcohol and she does it again. And again. And again. The brick is just starting to crumble when a voice breaks out.

 

“What did that wall ever do to you?”

 

She turns, squinting up into the darkness of a fire escape. She can just barely make out a tiny form in the shadows.

 

“S’not the wall I’m mad at.” She huffs and grasps the wall when her stomach turns suddenly. “I’m mad at me.” She sags against the wall, wishing she could sit but the bottom of the alley is littered with puddles of mysteriously stinking substances.

 

“Why?”

 

“You sure ask a lot of questions, shadow.”

 

“Well, you ran out of that building like you stole something.” There’s a shine of flashing teeth. “I’m scoping out whether it’s worth robbing you.”

 

She laughs, shaking her head. “Only thing I got on me is my shame.” After a pause, she adds. “You can have it if you want.”

 

“God, you’re pathetic.” The shadow steps forward and she widens her eyes. It’s a girl, barely older than fourteen but she’s also got on the most wicked pair of goggles on her head. 

 

“Holy shiiiit, you look cool!” She exclaims, stumbling forward drunkenly.

 

She wrinkles her nose. “Are you alone?”

 

She stumbles and takes a pause, thinking back on Zsasz’s disgusted expression. “Yeah.”

 

“How are you going to get home?” The girl questions, hands hovering over her swaying form. 

 

Something is stirring in her and she’s not sure what it is. She raises a finger and turns as a sudden force explodes from her mouth. She heaves more a moment, tears rising as she expels a good amount of liquid. After it stops, she takes a deep ragged breath.

 

The girl stares at her incredibly, face stuck in a show of concern.

 

“You know still tastes like fruit.” She mumbles.

 

Then, she promptly collapses and passes out. 

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended Ending:
> 
> "What in the hell!" Selina Kyle stares at the fallen drunk girl, hands still hovering over her limp form.
> 
> She pokes sharply at the body but not a single sound is made. Frowning she leans forward and checks for a pulse, sighing in relief when she finds one. She eyes her for a moment before shrugging and turning her onto her back, rifling through the pockets she can see. Apparently, the woman was telling the truth. There's not even a license on her, let alone money or credit cards. What kind of woman gets into a club and drinks with neither?
> 
> Also, what kind of woman shows up with Victor Zsasz? 
> 
> And, could she be a Zsaszette?
> 
> God, it would be so cool if she was but...
> 
> Selina thinks back to when the car had pulled in to the club, when she was scoping out potential jobs. The woman trailed after him like a lost puppy, but there was something about her that reminded her of someone she knew from the streets. She can't put her finger on it, and now she can't even question the woman, considering she's passed out. She sighs.
> 
> For a moment, she considers leaving the body there but she can hear the jeers of drunken men not too far and knows that even though she's a thief she's not total scumbag. She eyes her body critically, noting that she doesn't appear very heavy and considering her new hideout isn't very far, she could certainly make it. She'd just have to take breaks. 
> 
> "Alright. Let's go then." She groans as she heaves the woman up by her arms and starts dragging her away. 
> 
> Hopefully, no one stops her thinking she's dragging around a dead body.


	18. Chapter 18

Her head is pounding.

 

She groans loudly as she tilts away from the sun blinding her. How weird, she didn’t have a single window in her room. 

 

Maybe she fell asleep in the living room again?

 

She shifts again, stomach rolling as she takes a deep breath. 

 

This doesn’t smell like home.

 

The thought jars her awake, washes the pain away long enough for her to focus on her surroundings as she tries to quietly discern her location. 

 

She’s not on a bed. She’s laying on a pile of fabric. She squints, peeking out from under her mess of hair and sees that she’s on a roof, tucked under some kind of shelter. 

 

How did she get here?

 

Footsteps are approaching quickly and she panics. The last thing she remembers is running from Zsasz and the girl. She shuts her eyes as she moves her hand underneath her. Last night, her knife had been tucked into her front pocket. It was small, barely bigger than two inches but it was better than nothing. 

 

“Oh my god, she’s still asleep??” The voice sounds familiar, and matches the last memory she has well enough that her hand slips away from her pocket. She doesn’t want to stab a child after all. 

 

Albeit it’s a child that managed to kidnap her and get her on a roof.

 

Her hand clenches and she hears the girl mutter to herself. She needs to get up, but even now, every part of her aches and even thinking about getting up under the weak winter light makes her eyes sting and her stomach roll.

 

She wishes she had her phone. At least then she would have the ability to call someone to come find her, maybe Josie or even Tatiania as cold as she is would probably come for her. She doesn’t want to think about talking to Zsasz, not yet. She took advantage of him and that still sits uncomfortably in her gut, ruining an otherwise perfect evening with him. 

 

Why hadn’t he wanted it though?

 

Had she gone too far, too fast?

 

“Hey! Wake up!” A sharp kick to her leg makes her yelp and faster than she thought she’d be able to (especially considering that her body is very much against her) she’s up and crouching in the corner of the structure, poised to strike. 

 

The girl’s eyes light up. “I knew there was more to you!” She grins, leaning forward into the space. 

 

She falters under her bright expression, eyeing her warily. “Who are you?”

 

The girl smirks and sticks out her hand, cocking her head to the side, curls spilling around her neck. “I’m Selina, but you can call me Cat.”

 

She raises a brow at the nickname but honestly, it fits her a little too well. Something about the kid  reminds her very much of the animal. This girl is not normal. 

 

Cat waits expectantly for her name and after a moment of deliberation she reaches out and takes her outstretched hand, shaking it. Cat repeats the name for a moment, frowning. 

 

“I thought it would be something cooler.”

 

She pulls a face, grimacing as her headache returns and settles back into a sitting position, cradling her head. “Sorry to disappoint. I’m afraid that my father named both me and my brother. His name is even plain-er.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” 

 

They sit in awkward silence for a moment, her headache steadily worsening until she feels like she won’t be able to take it anymore. 

 

“You’re crying.” Cat says, anxious eyes tracking her movements before she stands abruptly. “Wait here.” She takes off.

 

Not like she’d go anywhere.

 

Groaning, she curls up in the corner, tucking her face into her arms to hide her eyes from the piercing light. Her body feels hot, and yet, she’s shivering. She’s not sure she’s supposed to feel this awful after drinking, even if she did it on an empty stomach. Her mouth tastes gross now, hours after the fact and she hopes her little kidnapper will return with water. Shivering, time passes both too slow and too quickly and suddenly there’s a hand gently tapping her. 

 

“Here. I brought you something...I...you don’t look so good.”

 

She groans but stretches out a hand and takes greedy gulps from the water bottle she’s handed. She also snatches the container of what looks like Ibuprofen and takes four before even looking at the other stuff she has. The water slides down her sore throat like an elixir and she closes her eyes to enjoy it for a moment, finally finding some relief from desert dryness burning in her. 

 

“I also brought some food...it’s not a lot but I…”

 

Blinking she takes in Cat’s unsure expression before looking down and finding a package of sweet bread rolls along with a cup of soup. It’s still steaming. Heart warming, she smiles and takes it from her. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

 

Cat shrugs, cheeks puffing out as she sucks in a nervous breath. “It’s entirely selfish. I want you to tell me about what you do.” She looks to the side, to hide her worry. “Can’t do that if you look like you’re dying on me.”

 

It’s cute. Like Cat’s not really used to doing things for people, kind things. She hides her smile as she opens both containers, inhaling the sweet aroma of food. Her stomach growls loudly and she places a hand on it sheepishly before ducking down and taking a bite of the bread. It’s good, better than the kind she was expecting. Although, she’s sure the girl didn’t waste any money getting something so simple.

 

She raises a brow as the girl plops herself down in front of her, curious eyes boring into her as she tentatively sips the cup. It’s chicken noodle. Her heart clenches. She hasn’t had soup like this since her mother died.

 

“What I do?” She asks to hide the emotions welling up in her. 

 

Cat leans forward eagerly. “Yes! You were with Zsasz so you must be Zsaszette!”

 

She bites her lip at the mention of him. “I am.” Technically, she is. Although she’s not at all like the others. She’s barely done anything aside from befriend Liza and torture Barbara Kean. Both of which she feels would be inappropriate to tell a kid like Cat who looks like she just might have a sense of hero (or is it villain?) worship for the other girls. 

 

“How did you become one?” 

 

She takes a bite of bread, to stall. She has a feeling that she shouldn’t try to lie to her host and well, it’s not like what she did is too terrible. “My brother tried to kill Zsasz. I gave myself up, to be in his service for my brother to live.” She rushes past that. “But! But he’s had me trained by the others. Most of them he took from some terrible life and taught them how to control the world around them, with strength.” She finishes, nervously taking a big sip.

 

It’s like Cat’s got stars in her eyes as she takes in the information greedily. “What is it like? Being one of you?”

 

This comes easier. “It’s amazing. We’re a pack, we take care of each other. The others have been teaching me skills, like knife throwing.” 

 

Cat nods, mouth narrowing. “A pack. That sounds great although I don’t think I’m much of one. I have only ever had my mom.”

 

She frowns at that, taking a real look at the girl before her, seeing the signs of street life all over her. If she had her mom, why was she here? The guarded look in her eyes tells her not to ask.

 

A sudden shiver wracks her body and she bites down on her tongue accidentally from the force of it. Cat’s chattering on now, talking about her mother except she can’t focus because burning soup is dripping into her lap as the shaking gets worse. 

 

She watches it happen in slow motion.

 

The cup falls from her fingers and drenches her lap but it barely registers as her entire body seizes suddenly. 

 

She can’t breath.

 

Her muscles jerk and Cat’s voice cuts off suddenly. She falls to the side, body jerking as her entire body erupts in pain.

 

She can’t breath.

 

Her name is being screamed. She doesn’t want to scare her. She tries to do something, anything to let her know but-

 

She can’t breath.

 

Cat’s face swims in the darkness above her and try as she might,

 

She.

 

Can’t.

 

**Breath.**

  
  
  


_ “Happy birthday to you!” The song ends with cheers and she grins at her brother.  _

 

_ There’s no cake this year but there is ice cream. Three scoops, vanilla and it’s nothing like mom’s but it’s got a cute little heart made of strawberries on it and a little fake candle on top.  _

 

_ “Thank you!” She chirps, squirming excitedly.  _

 

_ Her father is watching, with narrowed eyes. She glances up at him, as she nervously takes little bites. She offers some to her brother.  _

 

_ “No!” _

 

_ She jumps at the sharp tone, dropping the spoon with a clatter. Her brother snaps his mouth shut and turns his inquisitive eyes to their father. He doesn’t see her trembling, doesn’t notice the way her face turns white.  _

 

_ His voice softens but there’s something about his gaze that makes her stomach turn. “It’s your only gift...you should enjoy it alone.” _

 

_ She nods, hesitantly. “Yes father.” _

 

_ She takes a bite. The ice cream is cold and she can’t taste anything except the chill. Suddenly, it no longer feels like a gift. She chokes down the entire glass, eyes watering as her brother pouts next to her.  _

 

_ He smiles at her.  _

 

_ It does not reach his eyes.  _

 

_ “Did you like it?” _

 

_ “Yes sir.” _

 

_ Hours later her stomach cramps painfully. She cries out as her brother hovers next to her, sucking his thumb nervously.  _

 

_ “Daddy?! Daddy something’s wrong!” He shouts when she starts to shake.  _

 

_ He’s there at the doorway in an instant, watching her as she starts to vomit. He doesn’t move to help her. “Lay on your side. Don’t choke on it.” _

 

_ Gasping, as tears well up she does as he instructs, shivers wracking her body. “Father please-” She begs as another cramp twists her insides painfully. Her vision goes white for a moment.  _

 

_ When she comes back, he’s got his old watch out. He clicks it and the ticking fills the room. “Fifteen minutes. Then I give you medicine.” _

 

_ Horrified, she shoves her brother as he tries to soothe her, a napkin in his hand. “Henry, Henry go get-” _

 

_ His arm stops him just as he’s about to. “Henry, there’s ice cream for you if you get help.” _

 

_ Henry steps forward, face lighting up but she shouts out, hand yanking him towards her. “No! No please.” She gasps as her throat constricts. When she wipes her mouth, it’s not ice cream.  _

 

_ His eyes settle on her. “Fifteen minutes.” _

 

_ She nods, shaking as she curls in on herself. “Fifteen minutes.” _

 

_ Her vision goes black.  _

  
  


* * *

 

 

Cat doesn’t know what else to do. 

 

It’s been three days. 

 

The shaking hasn’t stopped and neither has the fever but she’s still breathing so Cat should count that as a win, she guesses.  

 

The woman looks deathly pale and she wrings her hands nervously as she watches her friend look her over. 

 

“Jeeze, where did you pick up this junkie?” Ivy sighs as she turns the woman over, smoothing her hand against the pretty hair. 

 

“Look, I told you. I found her and she’s my ticket to tracking my mom down.”

 

Ivy fixes her with a doubting look as she stands, dusting off her knees. “You sure about that? Cause she looks like she can barely walk, let alone track down a person who’s dead.”

 

“She’s not dead!” She shouts, moving towards Ivy fists clenched. 

 

Ivy shrugs. “Sure she’s not. Well, my plants aren’t going to do anything. She needs a hospital.” She turns and scrutinizes the woman again. “Or rehab. Either way, I say cut your losses and find a new lead.”

 

Cat bites her tongue and relaxes her fists. She shouldn’t fight Ivy on this, she knows what it looks like to everyone else but her mom isn’t dead. She’s just hiding, or missing, or stolen and if anyone in this god forsaken city can help her find her it would be Victor Zsasz, or better yet, Falcone. Nothing happens in Gotham without him knowing. This Zsaszette was her ticket in. 

 

Except, this Zsaszette looked inches away from dead and there wasn’t even a phone on her for her to use to call her boss. What was she supposed to do? Stroll right up to the fancy Killer Queen Sorority and just announce that she had on of them? 

 

….

  
  


“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

 

“Ivy shut up.”

 

“You kidnapped a Zsaszette!?”

 

“I didn’t mean to!” She throws her hands up.

 

“Well you did!”

 

She huffs and marches up the steps, shoving down the nerves growing in her. She desperately hopes that Zsasz is in a good mood when she shows up or else she’s dead meat. God, if Gordon could see her now. He’d kill her. 

 

“I’m not coming in with you.”

 

She turns and fixes a glare on Ivy. “I thought you were in.”

 

Ivy tosses her hair back and crosses her arms. “That was before I knew you kidnapped-

 

“I didn’t kidnap her!”

 

“Fine, before I knew you ‘borrowed’ a Zsaszette. I’m not getting involved. If you need me, I’ll be back at work.”

 

She watches her redheaded friend walk away with a mixture of annoyance and betrayal all the while knowing that Ivy was completely justified in running away like that. Zsasz wasn’t some lowlife gang-banger like the rest of the schmucks she usually tousled with. He was an assassin, a damn good one, who was Falcone’s right hand. 

 

“I’m so dead.” She mutters as she tosses the door open.

 

She pauses. 

 

Huh.

 

Not what she had expected at all. 

 

She eyes the weird office setting as she cautiously steps up to the desk where a woman is clicking away at a computer. Everything looks weirdly immaculate and she feels entirely out of place in her grungy clothes. 

 

“Uh…” She starts and then falls silent as the woman raises a red polished finger. It takes several minutes before the woman finally stops and fixes her with an intense stare. 

 

“Appointment or Walk-in?”

 

She swallows. 

 

Is she even in the right place?

 

“Walk in….”

 

“Well I’m afraid that at this moment Mr. Zsasz is quite busy. If you’d like I could schedule an appointment for next month?”

 

Flustered, she shakes her head. 

 

“No? Then maybe the month after?”

 

“No!” She bites her lip as the woman raises a brow. “It’s just...this is an emergency. I need to speak to him now.”

 

A sharp scream is heard from the frosted glass doors to the left and she pauses, hands hovering in the air. The woman tilts her head before give her a beauty queen smile. 

 

“Well, it seems that his current appointment has been cut short. I’ll see if I can buzz you in.”

 

She shoos her away and Cat stares incredulously at the woman from across the room, settling into the cushioned chairs. 

When she went looking for him, she half expected it to be a bar or something else, a cover up for his real business. But no, he’s just out in the open, in the middle of a busy street and all she had to do was ask the right people to find this place. And, aside from the weird door with his symbol on it, this could be any office building. 

 

She was blown away by his confidence. His daringness. The cops could just storm in at any moment and yet, nothing. And this place has been here for months, if not years. 

 

It’s incredible.

 

“Miss Kyle? He’ll see you now.”

 

She ducks her head in thanks as she passes the woman, shivering as her cold eyes track her movement. 

 

The door is automatic.

 

Her mouth dry she steps into the room. Her anxiousness only grows as she finds that Zsasz is there, sitting on a chair in the middle of a room. There are two women by his sides, standing tall and fierce.

 

Cat melts a little.

 

She wants to be like that when she’s older. 

 

“What do you want kid.”

 

Zsasz looks worn. 

 

There are dark circles under his eyes and his mouth is narrowed into a thin line. His hand is covered in blood. Her eyes fall downwards and she sees a dark red streak on the marble leading out to a door. 

 

_ ‘Don’t ask questions, Cat.’ _

 

She clears her throat. “Your friend. I have her.”   
  


Both Zsaszettes shift and before she can do anything there’s a gun in her face. 

 

“Woah! Woah!” She can’t say anything more, her brain is caught between panic and awe as these women circle her. 

 

“You better start talking. Fast.” Zsasz bites out.

“I saved her! She passed out drunk and I took her, so she wouldn’t be in danger! And then, she got sick! Real sick.” She spits all the words out as the tiny one with a pixie cut digs the gun into her skin.

 

Zsasz stands. “Where.”

 

“I’ll show you.”

 

A week ago, if someone had told Cat that she’d have not just Zsasz following her, but also two of his amazingly talented assistants, she’d have laughed and told them to cool it with the drugs. Now, she’s trying her best to slow her frantic roof hopping but this is the fastest way during mid day rush. And yet, she really doesn't have to.

 

The girls are fearless, throwing themselves from the roofs with no hesitation. And Zsasz? Zsasz is like a war machine, only steps behind her.    
  


“Kid you better not be leading me to a trap.” He hisses as Cat pauses over a vent. 

 

“I wouldn’t. I’m not an idiot. I hid her down her, to keep her safe.”

 

He looks like he doesn’t believe her at all but even still, he gestures for the girls to crawl in. 

 

“After you kid.”

 

She hesitates. “It’s really tight in there...I don’t recommend more than two of us there at one time and well...she’s already down there.”

 

Zsasz inhales deeply, pinching his nose. “If you’re lying and she’s not in there.”

 

She narrows her eyes. “You can kill me if I am.”

 

Pixie cut huffs. “I can go sir.”

 

Zsasz shakes his head. “No, you keep an eye on her.”

 

Then he slips down the vent with all the grace of an eel. She watches him go before turning to the girls. 

 

“So, how did you guys get started in the business?” 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


She’s alive. 

 

Zsasz grunts as the vent narrows. 

 

“Been tearing through this fucking city looking for you and you’re not even trying to hide from me. You’ve been sick.” He grunts again, as he accidentally knocks his elbow against the side of it. “You better be in here Doll. If you aren’t I-”

 

He cuts himself off. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she’s not here. He’s exhausted all his resources already, this kid is his only goddamn lead right now and as horrible as he is he doesn’t want to particularly want to kill her. She had spunk. Kind of like Tobi did when she was little. 

 

Although, this could all be some elaborate ruse set up by her. He’d feel less guilty shooting her if it was. But who would put her up to it? Fish maybe, she did like playing with the street kids. He wouldn’t put it past her to do something like it. This entire time he’s been thinking that maybe Fish caught a hold of her and killed her. It’s been keeping him up the last several nights. He keeps seeing her, on that stupid fucking chair seconds before it crashes against the ground screaming his name. 

 

The vent starts to widen and he spots a hole up ahead. He pushes through, rolling into a crouch as he falls. It smells and he wrinkles his nose. 

 

“Don’t be a dead body.” He whispers, cupping his leather glove around his mouth and nose. The one thing he hates about killing is the clean up. Decomposing bodies are such a high killer. 

 

There’s definitely a person under the pile of fabric in the corner. 

 

He crosses the small room in three steps and carefully nudges his foot against them. They don’t even make a sound. Not promising. But then, the blankets are rising and falling so that must mean breathing.

 

He slowly reaches down and snatches the top layer, which looks like a big winter jacket and pulls it off. There he sees her, nestled down, face pink and covered with sweat. 

 

She’s alive. 

 

It’s like his entire body relaxes all at once and he kneels down at her side. He has no idea how it’s possible that she ended up in the hands of someone like that kid, someone who wouldn’t have done terrible things to her, who had thought to come looking for him. It’s lucky.

 

He brushes a strand of hair out of her face, noting the way her skin feels unbearably hot. A fever. She mumbles something suddenly and he bends down, ear close to her mouth to listen. 

“Please.”

 

He pulls away, eyeing her shaking form. He glances around, finding no other way out other than the vent he used to come it. Kid sure knew how to pick a hide out, one way in, one way out. It’s smart he supposes, sure, but how in the hell is he supposed to get her out. 

 

She shivers again and furrows her brow. Zsasz smooths it out with his finger, watching her expression soften. There are no words to describe the peace he feels right now. 

 

She’s alive.

 

“Come on Doll, let’s get you home.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if you guys want a detailed account of Zsasz freaking out over her/you or if you want to discover how badly those three days went as we go on? I wasn't sure whether to put it in mostly because, I never really wanted to write too much from other character's pov's in this because then it would throw off the dynamic of everything else...or at least that's how I felt. If you guys like I could write a separate work all about Zsasz trying to track you down and link it in the next chapter? Let me know your thoughts, I really love hearing your theories or ideas and I try my best to create something that I feel would meet your expectations and desires!
> 
> See you next chapter!


	19. Chapter 19

Beep……….Beep………….Beep.

 

She screws her eyes shut tighter for a moment before slowly prying them open. Her vision is too blurry to make out much and she clears her throat. A face is suddenly hovering above her own, out of focus, as they say her name. It comes through to her ears slightly warbled and she grimaces. 

 

“Someone get Zsasz!”

 

She tries to tell them not to, her heart dropping to her stomach at the thought but it’s too late because something yanks her away from the room. 

 

_ “I don’t want to drink it.” _

 

_ His eyes narrow.  _

 

_ “If you don’t, I’m sure Henry will be happy to help.” _

 

_ She bites her lip, reaching out to grab it. He’d long since given up on pretending it was anything other than poison. No more concealing cups or spiked cookies. Just a vial of it.  _

 

_ Clinical.  _

 

_ “No antidote this time.” _

 

_ She nearly drops it, eyes shooting up to take his face. His face is entirely serious, taking in her fearful form.  _

 

_ “You’ll live.” _

 

_ That is the only comfort he gives her.  _

 

_ She tips back the contents.  _

 

_ “It’s tasteless.” She states, watching him write her commentary down. He remains silent and she goes on, unprompted. “Doesn’t raise any alarms immediately either. How long?” _

 

_ He stops writing, glancing at her with his sharp gaze. She wonders if her eyes look that cold when she reprimands Henry.  _

 

_ She shudders.  _

 

_ “We’ll see.” _

_ It only takes twenty minutes of painful silence for her body to react. Her body goes through the motions. She doesn’t even have to ask for her to know which poison he’d given her.  _

 

“Doll? Doll stay with me-”

 

There are hands on her. Warm hands.

 

_ Cold. So Cold.  _

 

_ The shakings stopped.  _

 

_ No vomit this time.  _

 

_ But her heart is slow. _

 

_ So slow. _

 

“You better get your shit together Doc or else this gun here is going in your mouth!”

 

_ Hm. _

 

_ Maybe it’ll be better to go.  _

 

_ “Take this.” _

 

_ Father? _

 

_ He shoves a vial in her hands.  _

 

_ Medicine.  _

 

_ No. _

 

_ Wrong taste. _

 

_ Arsenic.  _

 

_ Her heart rate spikes.  _

 

* * *

 

  
  


Her head feels awful.

 

“Turn that off.” She groans as she fists the sheets under her hands. Rough, paper like.

 

Not her sheets. 

 

Not a pile of coats either. 

 

Her eyes snap open and she winces at the bright light. There’s nobody with her and panic starts to rise up as she takes in the white room. There’s a heart monitor and it starts to tick up as she starts to struggle with the various needles jammed into her skin. 

 

“Nonononono.” She gasps as her lungs tighten. 

 

The first needle to be ripped out causes a stream of liquid to drip everywhere, the next one, blood. Hers, she ripped it out wrong. 

 

She clamps her hand on her wrist as she wrestles herself off the bed, the monitor going dead as she collapses to the floor. She lets out a scream of frustration as her legs get tangled in the sheets.

 

Where’s Cat? 

 

The girl is nowhere to be found and horrified she starts to think the worst. 

 

The man’s found her.

 

He must have. 

 

Why else would she be here?

 

The door opens and in rushes a woman in a lab coat. 

 

“Ma'am please get back on the bed-”

 

“Or what.” She hisses. 

 

The woman eyes her before slowly inching towards the red button on the wall. 

 

She can’t let her touch it. 

 

She lunges as best as she can, with legs that are not fully functioning and drags the woman to the floor with her.

 

“Help! Somebody help!” The woman screams as she smacks at her arms. 

 

She wraps her hands around her throat, not quite choking but a warning and the woman stills, glassy eyes looking into her own pleadingly. 

 

“Don’t hurt me.”

 

She narrows her eyes and scoffs. “Yeah and what about me? What were you doing to me? What did you do to Cat?”

 

There are footsteps heading her way and she wobbles herself into a sitting position, bringing the woman to rest on her. There’s something sharp in her pocket and she carefully removes it from her hostage. A scalpel. There’s already blood on it. 

 

“I don’t know anything about a cat ma’am, please. Just let me go.”

She shakes the woman roughly. “Not  **_a_ ** cat but Cat! A girl.”

 

The woman whimpers. “I don’t know which girl you’re talking about.”

 

She fixes a glare on her face to hide the fear gnawing at her as people appear in the doorway. It’s just more frightened nurses and doctors but one of them moves to grab something out of their pocket and she tightens her hand enough for the woman to gasp. 

 

“You make one wrong move and I’ll crush her windpipe.” She didn’t have enough strength for it, but they didn’t know that. “Or...stab her. I’m not sure yet.” She flashes it threateningly. 

 

“Wait.” Their lead doctor, or so she thinks, raises his hands. Everyone follows. “Don’t hurt her.”

 

She gestures at his pocket. “What’s in there? Take it out, slowly.” He nods and follows her directions. 

 

A syringe. “What’s in it?”

 

“Tranquilizer.”

 

She hums. Her legs are starting to regain their feeling. She just needs some more time. 

 

“Inject yourself with it.” 

 

He blanches and sputters for a moment.

 

“This would kill me!”

 

She raises a brow, growing frustrated the longer she sits here. She doesn’t want to be here if  **he** shows.

 

“You said it was a tranquilizer.”

 

“For you, yes! Your blood, it’s not like ours--”

 

“ **Quiet!** ”

 

He freezes. 

 

She takes a deep shaking breath and guides her legs underneath her, the woman as still as a corpse as she does. Then, slowly, she stands urging the woman to follow. 

 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. There’s a bathroom right there. I want you all to walk in single file and if any of you get any bright ideas I’ll kill her.”

 

The doctor nods and gently guides his crew towards the bathroom. No one dares to meet her eyes and she can’t hide the fact that she likes this. Likes having this power over them, control over them. She can use it, get out. She’s not going to be somebody else’s lab rat, not anymore. 

 

“Wait. You.” The man, who honestly looks fresh out of med school, turns, terrified as he shakes.    
  


The doctor pauses eyeing her nervously.

 

“Hand me your lab coat.” 

 

Shaking he takes it off and thrusts it in her hands, eyes down before he runs into the bathroom and is taken into the arms of his fellow co-workers. 

 

It does cross her mind that this is going suspiciously well and she narrows her eyes. 

 

“Where’s everybody else?”

 

“Gone. It’s three in the morning and this is a private clinic.”

 

“Your turn.” She says, brandishing the scalpel. 

 

“I can’t. Not until you hand her over.”

The woman whimpers as her grip flexes. 

 

A hostage would be useful but...then she’d have to ditch her somewhere else and frankly, she doesn’t want to run the risk of being tracked because of it. 

 

She shoves the woman against the doctor and turns tail and flees.

 

She barely gets away, struggling to run and pull on the lab coat to cover her modesty. Just as the doctor said there was nobody else to stop her and when she makes a sharp turn into an alley the footsteps run past her and she knows she’s safe. 

 

She drags in cold air, heart slowly returning back to a normal rate as she sags against the brick wall. It pricks through the coat and she winces at the draft she feels from the hospital gown. Shivering, she shifts, wrinkling her nose at the puddle she’s standing in. She hopes it’s just melted snow. 

 

It probably isn’t.

 

She waits in the dark alley for another fifteen minutes, growing colder and colder by the minute, terrified they’ll double back and capture her. She feels disoriented, she’s not even sure what day it is or how much time had gone by. For all she knows it could be years. Her hair was still the same length but who’s to say they didn’t give her trims every once in a while? 

 

Nothing is certain. 

 

Her hand falls from her arm, blood no longer pouring from the broken skin. 

 

She might not even be in Gotham anymore.

 

Harsh panicked breaths kick up again as she bites into her shoulder, quieting her sounds as a group of people pass the opening of her hiding spot. 

 

She doesn’t know what she’ll do if she’s not. 

 

No money, barely any clothes, no shoes. She won’t get far. Especially feeling the way she does now. Even now, her body is begging for rest, legs trembling from the weight of her body. 

 

She wants to go home. 

 

Except home doesn’t seem to inviting considering what happened with Zsasz.

 

Zsasz. 

 

His hands on her body flash through her memory and she bites her lip. 

 

She really screwed that up.

 

But where else could she go?

 

A sudden glare of light fills the alley and she winces, squinting at it. Her heart sinks to her feet. 

 

She’s caught.

 

“Hon? Are you okay?”

 

She falls to her knees, water splashing up and soaking her. Relief fills her as she starts to thank God, the stars, anything, anyone who had their eye on her at this very moment. 

 

“Do you need me to call 911-wait…”   
  


She looks up, surprise as the flashlight is aimed at the ground, no longer blinding her.

 

Holy shit.

 

It’s  Barbara Kean- (She could kiss her! She’s still in Gotham!) -who looks completely struck with fear as she glances around, hand tightening on the little key chain light. 

 

“Please.” She begs, even though she’s sure that Barbara would sooner run her over than help her. 

 

It must be something in her expression, her clothes, just something that makes Barbara soften because the woman sighs and clicks the light off. 

 

“Let’s go then.” She grabs her and gently lifts her. “I’ll rent a room.”

 

Fifteen minutes later she’s taking a hot shower after having seen the woman pull out a decent wad of cash to buy the receptionist’s silence. She sighs, glad to wash off everything she’s dealt with in the last couple of days (well days to her, she’s still not sure how long it’s been). 

 

“This is really gross.” 

 

She barely muffles her laugh as she peeks out at Barbara who has her hands over her eyes. 

 

“I mean, God the bathroom is just...right there! And the ceiling!” 

 

She glances around taking in the mirrors and shrugs. “It’s better than most motels I’ve seen. Look, you can tell they clean it.”

 

“It smells like bleach! Bleach!” Barbara visibly shudders.

 

She shakes her head as she turns off the water, stepping out. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re barefoot. I bought you flip flops.”

 

Feeling caught she slips her feet in them immediately, feeling guilty for imposing herself on Barbara like this as she carefully pulls on the clothes she’d also gotten.

 

“I was barefoot in the alley…” She mumbles, justifying herself as Barbara continues to rant about the room.

 

“That’s different! You were running from psycho doctors.”

 

“And now I’m in a Love Motel, your point being?”   
  


“My point being that that’s exactly why you should have shoes on.”

 

She grins before sobering suddenly. Barbara has yellowing bruises peeking out from her clothes and she can’t ignore them for much longer. “Barbara...thank you.”

 

She drops her hands from her eyes and frowns. “You’re welcome now it’s not the best but-”

 

She shakes her head. “No.  **Thank you** .”

 

Barbara takes a shaky breath as tears well up. 

 

“I know it was hard for you...to stop and help me but, really, truly…especially after what I did.”

 

Barbara stands walking over to her, stopping inches away. “I...I’ve been thinking about this you know. What I would say if I saw you again. You tortured me.”

 

She winces. It stings but it’s true. 

 

“But...you also protected me. He...Zsasz...I see him every time I close my eyes.” Barbara trembles so hard she nearly teeters off her heels as she curls into herself. She looks so small in this moment. A woman like Barbara should never look so terrified. 

 

Gulping, she realizes she’s currently face to face with one of Zsasz’s victims. Biting her lip against the onslaught of emotions she nods stiffly at Barbara. She doesn’t know what to do or say. Business is business but that’s not something you tell a traumatized woman who lives every waking moment in fear.

 

“I’m not going to thank you but...I can do this. The room is paid for until the day after tomorrow. Goodbye (Y_N).”

 

She freezes as Barbara reaches out and gently kisses her cheek. Eyelashes fluttering she feels the barest whisper of them against her skin then brilliant blue eyes are boring into her eyes again. Then she’s gone. 

 

She gets the feeling, standing there with her hair dripping down the clothes Barbara had bought her, that the woman was planning on leaving Gotham.

 

She walks to the window, eyeing the view she has of the harbor. Metropolis blinks at her from across the bay and she tilts her head. She could go. 

 

But…

 

Her brother. She can’t abandon her deal. Even now the bonds of it tug at her, demanding she finds her owner so that he doesn’t hunt him down. She’s been gone too long as is. Too much is happening now for her to abandon it all. Liza, Falcone, Fish, the Zsaszettes. 

 

She needs to go home. 

 

And right now, even if it doesn’t feel like it, home is with the Zsaszettes.

 

She moves to the phone on the side table and dials.

 

“Who the fuck is this?”

 

“Tobi?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit short but it felt like a natural ending! I couldn't resist prolonging their reunion just a little longer! Just imagine Zsasz's face when the clinic calls to tell him that Doll, who was in a short fever-induced coma, got up and ran out!
> 
> Anyways, fun fact, I once thought about taking the traditional OC route and call Doll, Katherine. 
> 
> I promise next chapter there's a reunion!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


	20. Chapter 20

“(Y/N)?! Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for hours! Zsasz called us on our day off no less!”

 

She winces.

 

“I woke up somewhere strange and I-”

 

“You woke up in a clinic asshole! Exactly where you’re still supposed to be!” Tobi growls and she hears a large thud.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Some asshole I was interrogating to find you and lo and behold I didn’t even need to fucking do that. I broke a nail. You fucking owe me.”

 

She bites her lip and twirls the phone’s cord. “Is it really our day off?”

 

Tobi snorts. “You’ve been off for days, but yes. Now, where the fuck are you?”

 

She gives her the address, blushing furiously as Tobi starts to cackle. 

 

“A love motel? You’re kidding.”

 

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She mutters as she lays across the bed. 

 

“That’s too far from me anyways hold on.”

 

She hears some clicks and suddenly there’s crackling on the line.

 

“You better have some good fucking news, Tobi.”

 

She freezes, heart thudding. 

 

It’s Zsasz.

 

“Why don’t you say hi, little runaway?”

 

“Hi.” She croaks.

 

Zsasz doesn’t say anything for a very long moment. And then the line goes dead.

 

Tobi whistles. “He sure ain’t happy with you.” Loud typing sounds emanate from her end. “Aaaand send. See you at home~.”

 

“Wait Tobi-”

 

The call ends and she jumps up staring at the phone in her hand like she could magically erase the conversation that just happened. She tosses the phone away from here, running to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. 

  
  


Zsasz was coming for her. 

 

Shitshitshitshitshit.

 

She drags her hands through her very tangled hair, eyeing her reflection. “I look terrible.”

 

Deep dark purple circles under her eyes and any color she had gained was gone. Her skin had an ashy, grey tone to it, paling her to an almost ghost-like quality. The only hint of life was her very red cheeks and try as she might she couldn’t make the splotches of color go away. It didn’t get any better below her neck. Drab black clothes that hung off her frame and although she was very thankful for them she didn’t think it was appropriate for a reunion with her boss.

 

Well boss/crush/person-she-may-have-assaulted.

 

Groaning, she rubbed her face angrily before deciding she should at least try to calm herself down. There’s a radio nearby and she clicks it on, switching the CD to the least sexy sounding music possible, which evidently was classical music. She couldn’t imagine anyone getting turned on by the sound of pianos but who was she to judge. 

 

She curls up on the bed to wait, hand moving along to the notes she vaguely remembers from the short blissful time she spent away from her father and brother. The only time she had lived for herself. She smiles, slowly sinking into a feeling of comfort and so, it’s only a little too easy to fall asleep.

 

Some indeterminable amount of time later she hears her room’s door open. Her eyes snap open and she rolls of the bed into a standing position, blinking blearily. Slowly the blur takes form and she drops her hands.

 

It’s him.

 

Her body simultaneously lights up and shuts off. She drags her eyes across his form, taking in his angry expression as well his suit. It’s got blood on it. Gulping, she lowers her gaze, feeling more than a little ashamed. 

 

Zsasz doesn’t say anything, just re-locks the door and drags over a chair and sits in it backwards, hands resting on the top of it. He gives her a piercing stare, wearing her down in a matter of seconds and before she can stop herself she’s vomiting up a million words. 

 

“Listen I’m so sorry for what I did at the club. I didn’t know what I was doing and I’m sure you felt like I took advantage. I mean why would you want to do  **_that_ ** with  **_me_ ** and it was really presumptuous of me to assume and I know that you only wanted to kiss me to prove my loyalty and I shouldn’t have taken that as encouragement and--”

 

He holds up a hand, eyes narrowing. “Doll, what the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is razor sharp and she squirms uncomfortably under it.

 

“I did that...dance. And then I tried to...use your hand to…” She stammers, trying to say the words but they keep getting caught in her throat so she just shuts up, playing with the edges of the long sweater she’s wearing. 

 

“Wait...you think I’m pissed off because that?”

 

She tugs a strand of hair behind her ear and chews on her lip. “Yes.”

 

He laughs and the sudden sound of it makes her laugh. He shakes his head, dragging a hand across his scalp muttering incredulously under his breath. “You gotta be kidding me.”

 

She hesitates for a moment before plowing on. “Why else would you be mad? You pulled away and-”

 

He stands, knocking the chair out of the way with a sharp kick and she jumps, clamming up.

 

“I pulled away because you were damn near black-out drunk.” He grabs her chin, tugging it up to face him. He looks down on her, looking somehow amused and completely annoyed with her. “You would have regretted it the next morning, if something happened when you were like that.”

 

“Oh.” She whispers, lips parting. 

 

It makes an incredible amount of sense. So much sense that she’s filled with an overwhelming flood of embarrassment. She ran away because he was being chivalrous. She ran away, **_twice_ ** , at that. God she was an idiot.

 

“Yes you are.”

 

Cheeks burning, she glances to the side. “You just...seemed so…”

 

“Against it? Yeah. If I was going to touch you I’d want you to be completely aware of it, and somewhere much  _ much  _ more private.”

 

She shivers at the tone in his voice and darts her eyes around the room nervously. 

 

“So what were you mad about.” 

 

Right...so smooth. 

 

“Oh let’s see...you took off, disappeared. I find you three days later with a questionable street rat-I’m sorry- street  **cat** with an inexplicable illness and as soon as I get you to a doctor you’re hardly there long enough to recover before you disappear  **_again_ ** .” He tugs her face back to him, eyes smoldering as he glares down at her. “I broke one of my own fucking rules for you, got the Zsaszettes looking for your dumb little ass all around town on the seventh.”

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“Well sorry ain’t good enough, Doll.”

 

She inhales deeply.

 

What is he kicked her out? 

 

He searches her eyes for a moment before tutting. “You still doubt me. Why?”

 

“What?”

 

He shakes his head. “Guess I’ll have to punish you.”

 

Her eyes widen and before she can protest, beg for reconsideration, he’s shoving her onto the bed.    
  


“Wait Zsasz-”

 

He snatches her hands and a pair of handcuffs appear. He cuffs her left first and then pulls the chain through a too convenient hole in the bed frame and cuffs her other hand. 

 

“Zsasz please-” 

 

 As he watches her struggle against the restraints his hands work to loosen his tie and her eyes are caught by the movement before she remembers herself.   
  


“Wait-what are you--mmph.”

 

Outraged she yells at him but the tie muffles most if not all her words and he sits back to admire her, grinning. 

 

“Your punishment,” he cracks his neck, “begins now, Doll.” Chuckling, he tugs on her hair. “No safe words for naughty girls, sorry.”

 

_ ‘Safe words? What the hell is that and oh my god what is he doing?!’ _

 

She shuts her eyes as he slowly drags his hands up her sweater. The rough leather causes goosebumps to rise and she whimpers. 

 

He clicks his tongue. “Eyes open.”

 

 He pinches when she doesn’t comply immediately and she snaps them open at the sharp sting of pain. He licks his lips and her eyes drop to his mouth. 

 

“Bad girls don’t get kisses either, I’m afraid.” He leans down and whispers the next words in her ear, tongue reaching out to trace it. “They do get bites, though.” A sharp nip follows the comment and she moans, eyelashes fluttering. A much sharper bite follows and she snaps her eyes open, gazing up at the ceiling she startles. 

 

She had forgotten about the mirrors. As Zsasz slides down her body she becomes aware of how small and fragile she looks as his body hovers over hers. Like a story she had once read of a man who stole away a flower of a girl.His dark eyes encompass her vision for a moment and she reminds herself that the girl chose to give in and taste the forbidden fruit. 

 

Her sweater is slowly dragged up and she holds his eyes as best as she can, refusing to back down or turn away. Their connection is broken only by the sweater passing over her head and she stares him down, aware of the cool chill brushing against her bare chest. 

 

“No bra? What a naughty girl you are?” He raises a brow, flashing her a grin.

 

Feeling awfully bold she tries her best to spit out the words clearly through the gag, managing to convey it well enough if his surprised look is anything to go by. 

 

“You don’t say?”

 

He dips into her waistband and brushes against her bare pubic bone. “Huh, you weren't bluffing. No panties.” He dips down and licks her collarbone. “Guess you deserve a reward.”

 

She furrows her brow as he kisses his way slowly down her chest, goosebumps and fire rising in his wake. She squirms as her nears the peaks of her breasts, eyes flying up to gaze at the mirrors, drawn by the strange eroticism of them. She felt like she was experiencing it both as an outsider and as an active participant, gazing at their two figures entwined on the bed. 

 

His lips wrap around her nipple and her vision blurs. There is no way to describe the sensation. It’s like liquid heat being dipped on them, and as his tongue laves at it little shocks of pleasure tingle across her skin. Her core reacts like they’re connected and she clenches her thighs together as a sudden wetness seeps from her. 

 

She almost thinks she’s gotten her period, now of all moments, despite several long years without it. Her body is caught between enjoying his ministrations as he continues to lick and suckle at her and yet all she can focus on is what’s seeping out of her. 

 

“Doll, relax for me.”

 

She shakes her head vehemently, panicked as more floods out as his teeth tug on her peak for being disobedient. She doesn’t know how to tell him and she nearly jumps away from him when he forces her legs apart for him. He stars at the smokey black fabric, eyeing the way there’s a much darker spot at the inner seam. Tears rise to her eyes in humiliation and she looks away. 

 

He whistles in appreciation. “I barely touched you and you’re already this wet?”

 

_ ‘Wet?’ _

 

She glances at him as he reaches down with his gloves and drags a finger up it. When he brings it up he licks it, closing his eyes at the taste. “If I were in a better mood and you weren’t in such big trouble I’d eat you out.”

 

Confusion fills her but she feels it’s better not to ask as he leans down to hover over her face. “You look so cute, I’m not even sure I want to keep going.” He tilts his head and reaches up to brush her face. A wet streak is left behind and she realizes she’s let a tear fall. 

 

He frowns. 

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

She shakes her head no. 

 

“Hm.”

 

Then he bends down and open his mouth, biting harshly into her breast. She screams. Her back arches and she tugs at the restraints, desperate to get him off of such a sensitive location. He pulls away after a moment and despite the amount of pain no blood stains his lips. She glances down, still convinced he’d broken skin and finds a perfect ring of teeth around her areola. Chest heaving she musters as much anger into her expression as she can.

“Don’t give me that look Doll.”

 

She huffs. 

 

“You done being bad?”

 

She nods, ready to get the night over with.”

 

“Great, let’s go home.”

 

He unchains her, suddenly nonchalant about the fact that he just handcuffed her to a bed and stipped her down to fondle her. She sits up slowly, and tugs the sweater back into place as he sucks on his glove, eyeing her up and down. He hums almost disappointedly as her body is fully covered and slides off the bed, reaching into his pocket. 

 

“By the way, because you seem so prone to disappearing I’ve got you this.”

 

Before she can see what he’s pulling out, it’s already being snapped around her neck. She stalls for a moment, brain processing the information it’s receiving before she dashes to the first wall mirror she can find. 

 

In any other situation she would have been awed by the integrity of the woven leather, or impressed by the comfortableness of it, or even felt a quiet sore of satisfaction over having his name branded so obviously on her person. Now? Now she’s just pissed and she turns around, face burning with anger. 

 

“You did not just put a dog collar on me.” She hisses out between gritted teeth.

 

Zsasz shrugs, reaching out to grab her hands which were tugging at it. The handcuffs snap back into place as she seethes. “You keep running away and getting kidnapped. Figured I might as well put a return address in case it happens again.”

 

Her mouth drops as he attaches a leash to it, leather of course, and begins yanking her out the door. 

 

“You can’t just-”

 

“Doll, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do right now because frankly, I’m still quite pissed.”

 

She shuts her mouth tightly as the pass by the clerk whose eyebrows raise significantly at her. She can't imagine what they’re thinking now considering they saw her walk in with a woman in a doctor’s coat and now she’s leaving in a very rumpled sweater and collar ensemble.

 

“ But…”

 

“No. Frankly, I have half a mine to strip you naked and make you walk home with me like this.”

 

Cheeks burning she decides it’s better to remain quiet for the time being and meekly accepts his help into the car when he offers it. He buckles her in almost lovingly, hands caressing her form as he does.

 

She spends most of the car ride squirming in her seat, wincing everytime more leaked out. She’s not sure what it was and she was desperate to get somewhere to check out. At times, she cursed how little she really knew of the relations between men and women. Honestly, aside from the general of that goes in there, she’s not really sure what people do with their naked bodies. And the only dick she’s ever seen was when the flasher was prowling her neighborhood when she was fourteen. She wrinkled her nose at the thought and shook her head to rid herself of the gross memory.

 

Tired of the silence she turned to Zsasz. “Today’s the seventh huh?” 

 

He gives her a look like she’s an idiot as they take a sharp turn. “That’s when the day off is.”

 

She ignores him and calculates quickly in her head and frowns. “Last day I remember was-”

 

“The 25th. I know.” 

 

Stomach sinking she plays with the collar, hand running over the leather until her heart no longer feels like it’s going to crawl up her throat. “That’s like...eighteen days.” She inhales shakily. She’s never lost that many days before. So much could have happened in those days alone. “What did I miss?”

 

Is Liza still alive?

 

Is Fish still plotting against Falcone?   
  


Is Falcone still around?   
  


And the girls?

 

Was Josie still out of the country?

 

“New murderer in town.” Zsasz shrugs. “Not much besides that.” He turns again and there is home, in all its glory. 

 

Her body relaxes at the sight of it and she hardly acknowledges Zsasz’s lack of details as he pulls into the parking lot behind the building. There’s several cars here and she tilts her head questioningly. Zsasz ignores her, just guides her out before shoving her towards the entrance. 

 

“Retina scan? That’s new?”

 

“Well we kept getting break ins while you were gone.”

 

She arches a brow.

 

“You really know how to pick your friends, Doll. Got me making renovations and shit to keep your alley cat out of here.”

 

She blinks at him for a moment before it dawns on her who he’s talking about and a giant grin takes hold. “Cat? She’s been coming here?”

 

“Well, he wouldn’t tell me where you were so…”

 

They whirl around, Zsasz cursing as the girl gives him a salute from her perch on his car. 

 

“Kid you have got to stop hanging around here before you get killed.”

 

Cat shrugs. “I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

 

“Well she’s fine. Now shoo.”

 

Cat rolls her eyes before bouncing up the steps to her. She eyes her outfit and her new accessories before wrapping her arms around her for a fleeting moment. “I’m glad you’re okay.” And then the girl’s gone, body flying up a wall and over a roof. 

 

“That girl is something else.” She says, tone a touch affectionate as she stares after her. 

 

“She’s a nuisance is what she is.”

 

Zsasz presses the button and scans his eye before marching in, dragging her along behind. “Girls, Daddy’s home with our little pet!”

 

Several foot falls sound from the living area and she pushes on to greet them before they all end up cramped in the little hallway. Shouts of her names along with several creative cuss words greet her as she’s suddenly engulfed in the arms of several people. 

 

“We were worried sick-”

 

“Speak for yourself I’m going to kick your ass-”

 

“I thought you were dead!-”

 

Voices overlap each other as she’s shoved from person to person before finally, finally, she’s stopped right in front of Tatiana. She swallows nervously and ducks her head. 

 

“Don’t do it again. Nearly had us start a gang war looking for you.” Is all she says before turning on her heel. She stares quizzically after her, before the chattering of her friends grabs her attention again. 

 

As Josie launches into a tale of how they had hopped from roof to roof only to be led to an air vent which was holding her she becomes overwhelmed with the sensation of warmth. Never in all her life had she been greeted after a long absence with such love and concern (and alright threats as well). Her brother had simply grown to accept that occasionally she disappeared, either because she was at the hospital or because she was passed out in a closet outside of his knowledge. But not them. Eyes watering, she let the tears fall, smiling at all of them.

 

Josie stopped, voice falling away mid word. “(Y/N)?”

 

She reached out and grasped onto them, tugging them close. “I love you.” She says, voice wobbling as she breaks into joyous sobs. “I love you.” She repeats. 

  
  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, they reunited! And damn lol, someone give this girl the sex talk asap! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, because I had fun writing. Tbh I should probably look into a beta but ha I kinda write evreything and then post it so I wouldn't want to wait for someone to look at it. 
> 
> Anyways, gimme your thoughts! In fact, why don't you guys suggest some fun punishments?


	21. Chapter 21

She shuts the laptop slowly. There are no words to describe the informational journey she had just gone on. Sure she may have cleared the search history three times but nothing would clear her discoveries from her memory. Even now, sweaty bodies doing forbidden activities sprung to life behind her eyelids. 

 

She feels like she’s seconds away from getting in trouble despite the fact that she’s a grown woman and that she can’t be the only one to have looked at porn. It wasn’t like she had even masturbated! Videos were just where the search engine had taken her after she finished looking at the articles. 

 

She should have just sucked it up and asked somebody. Now, her eyes will never be the same. 

 

Getting up, legs shaking she decides she should shower. Memory wipes are a thing of the future but she could at least wash away the shame that clung to her. She had no idea how people watched things like that, on a regular basis, let alone performed. 

 

Although...it was strangely alluring. The things they had done…

 

She shakes her head, stepping into the frigid water, forcing herself to leave all those thoughts with the water circling the drain. She had things to do, none of which revolved around porn or the actors. 

 

Fifteen minutes, laptop returned to its owner, she’s sitting on a stool, sipping on a smoothie. She’s meeting Eva at eight o’clock that night, which isn’t for several hours. Something about finally getting to the bottom of it, whatever that meant. Eva hadn’t been entirely clear. 

 

She glances at the clock, sulking once she sees that it’s barely four. She’s finished most of her missed assignments but there is that project coming up that she could work on...Overall, she’s nervous to remain out and about when she’s not sure if Zsasz is here. He could be in his office, or inside the gym...or even the Playroom which she doesn’t have access to yet. Eva says she shouldn’t want to. 

 

Every so often when she shifts the bruise on her breast aches and stings in a reminder; The main reason she had forgone a bra. She can’t believe that happened. Spacing out, she recalls the sensation, body tingling. To think, that had she known what she does now, how far things would have gone. 

 

_ When he brings it up he licks it, closing his eyes at the taste. “If I were in a better mood and you weren’t in such big trouble I’d eat you out.” _

 

His face between her thighs. Them in the mirror. Her mimicking the expressions she had seen in the videos. Gasping. Moaning. Dripping.

 

Face warming, she squeezes her thighs together. 

 

She’s wet again. 

 

Wet. 

 

Tongue sliding around her nipple.

 

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

“Whatcha thinking about, Doll?”

 

“Oh my God!” She flies off the seat, halfway falling as she whirls around to send a punch. 

 

Zsasz dodges the frenzied movement easily, shit eating grin in place as he watches her. “I’m not God but close enough.”

 

Normally, she would give him an exasperated expression, or say something completely impulsive and ridiculous but all words die in her throat as she blushes furiously.

 

He tilts his head, pulling closer as he studies her. “Were you thinking something dirty?” He reaches out, tugging on the collar. “Was it about me?”

 

Like a slap the question draws a reaction out of her. She smacks his arm away. “Why would I think something dirty about you?”

 

He frowns. “Were you thinking about someone else?”

 

Annoyed she huffs, reaching down to fix the stool. “No.” 

 

“Oh. Good.”

 

He stares her down silently as she cleans the spilled smoothie. He makes no offer to help, because why would he. She glowers silently as she places the clean cup on the rack to dry, turning to him with her arms crossed.

 

“Can I help you with something?”

 

It’s like he was waiting for her to ask. His expression lights up and he smiles, snapping his fingers. “Come to think of it, I do! How kind of you to volunteer.”

 

“Wait that’s not what I meant-”

 

“Too bad. You’re also still in trouble little miss-”

 

“Don’t call me that-”

 

“My apologies, little brat-”

 

She glares, opening her mouth to protest because dammit she’s not a kid, she’s twenty-six!

 

“Don’t interrupt me again or else I’ll gag you. For a second time.” He warns, hand sticking out to stop her.

 

Face red, she stubbornly shuts her mouth, raising a brow. 

 

“Anyways, like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.” A pause. He’s baiting her. “I want you to help me with something.”

 

She remains quiet, moving her hand to tell him to go on. She’s not about to walk right into a trap. He grins. 

 

“Oh quick girl. Knew there was a reason I liked you. I want you to go wear the pretty little outfit I got you. It’s in the closet.” Then he tosses her something. “Also your phone. It’s dead. Keep it on you for hell’s sake woman.”

 

Giving him a sheepish expression she nods. 

 

“What are you waiting for, shoo.”

 

Curiously, nothing has been distrubed in her room. Which means the box might have been planted before she went downstairs. Even her desk remains cluttered with schoolwork and plans. She bends down to search for her charger, finding it hiding under her bed and plugs in her phone. It blips on, showing her the battery which holds a sad little face. 

 

“Sorry little guy.” She whispers, rubbing the pink plastic. “Promise I won’t abandon you next time I decide to disappear.” 

 

She half wishes she could ignore Zsasz and his little present but like a siren’s call it beckons and so she turns to her closet. A mixture of excitement and apprehension fills her as she opens the door slowly. Everythings been shoved to the side so that the first thing she’ll see is the box he’s propped on the floor. Squinting at the label, she bends down. 

 

_ ‘Hell Kitten’ _

 

She frowns, chewing her lip as she walks over to her bed, placing the box down. It stares ominously at her for several seconds before she shrugs because surely it couldn’t be that bad. The last thing Zsasz had gotten her was the gorgeous gown. 

 

But...this was meant to be part of the punishment.

 

She’s sure of it. 

 

She carefully grasps the sides of the lid, lifting it.

 

Her jaw drops.

 

The first thing she sees is a pair of kitten ears. Then, a tail with no obvious way to attach it. It’s got some kind of plastic at the end in a shape that reminds her of a cabinet knob. Almost. Except it’s attached to a cat tail. Wrinkling her nose she moves on, extricating a top that would hardly cover more than her breasts as well as a skirt that barely qualified. On the bottom was a card with care instructions for the tail which left her a little baffled. No belt or clip to attach it to herself. 

 

Oh well. 

 

Looks like she’ll have to tell Zsasz the outfit was missing a part. 

 

Overall, despite the humiliating head piece and the revealing nature of the outfit, it didn’t seem so bad. She quickly changes her tune as soon as she pulls the top on. It’s tight, and she frowns. She can’t wear a bra with it but looking at it the way it is makes her want to change her mind. The tight fabric stretches almost see through on her chest. 

 

_ ‘Maybe the skirt will be better...Nope.’ _

 

It barely goes over her bottom and she knows she’s one reckless movement away from flashing someone her pink panties. 

 

The headband finishes the picture and what a picture it is. She looks exactly like the girl she had seen on one of the video’s thumbnails while she was scrolling through. She had been too afraid to click on it and now, how ironic, that she’s dressed like this.There’s absolutely no way she’s walking downstairs where anyone could see her. She can’t.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Her phone rings just as she’s resolved to hide upstairs until something else stole Zsasz’s attention. She curses, because of course it’s him and of course he knew she’d plug in her phone immediately. 

 

She grabs her phone, squinting as the name ‘Daddy’ flashes on the screen. She could easily ignore it, pretend she hadn’t plugged in the phone. He wouldn’t know. But then...knowing him he’d come up here next.

 

She picks up.

 

“Doll what’s taking you so long?”

 

She bites her lip, tugging on the top and frowning as it springs back up. “The outfit is too small for me.”

 

“Impossible. It’s tailored to you.”

 

She pulls the phone away and raises a brow at it. “How’d you get my measurements?”

 

“Doll, I’ve gotten quite good at estimating the size of bodies. Also, Doctor’s reports remember?”   
  


Right. She had been measuring her weight gain as well as how it was distributing across her body. Her goal was the average waist size for her height, a good indicator that her gained pounds were settling okay.

 

“You get all of my medical records?”

 

Zsasz sighs. “Stop changing the subject, you know I get everyone’s. Now come down.”

 

“I look ridiculous.”   
  


“That’s the point.”

She takes a hissing breath. “What if someone sees?”

 

“Someone is seeing. I have a meeting.”

 

“No!” She quiets, whispering the next part. “What if one of the girls sees.” She could care less what a stranger from the Underworld of Gotham saw her in.

 

“I gave them the day off. To make up for having to search for you earlier this week.”

 

“Oh.” Well that explained the empty house. 

“Any other concerns?”

 

She looks herself over again. “My modesty.”

 

He laughs. “Doll, come downstairs or else I’m coming for you.”

 

She hangs up. 

 

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

So much for no way she was going downstairs wearing it. 

 

She shuffles her feet, glaring at the ground, afraid to look up and meet Zsasz’s eyes. 

 

“Where’s the tail?”

 

“There was no way to put it on.” She mumbles, trying and failing to make the shirt cover more by tugging on it. There was only so much fabric unfortunately. “Why am I being punished like this?”

 

Zsasz grins, reaching down to pat her head. “Well you keep running away.”

 

She frowns. “I only ran once, and I was drunk.”

 

He grabs her chin, tilting her head up. “You got me Doll, I just wanted an excuse to dress you like this.” He drags a finger down the side of her face. “It’s a shame you couldn’t figure out the tail, would have really pulled the look together.” 

 

Breathless, she’s trapped in his gaze as he hovers inches from her lips. She glances down, remembering the feel of them against her mouth. His touch blazes down her neck, dragging down the side of her breast and settles on her exposed lower back. There he strokes, softly as he tugs her closer. 

 

“But I suppose I should have known you wouldn’t have known where it went.”

 

Dazed, she murmurs her question. 

 

He smirks, leaning down and kissing the corner of her mouth causing her heart to flutter.

 

His hand slides down, finger gently sliding between her things, running up and down the junction between her thighs. She grows slick as he plays there for a moment and she sags against him, eyes closing.

 

“Here.” 

 

He pokes at her asshole.

 

Eyes flying open she jumps out of his arms. “Why would you put that there!” She yells, pointing at him aggressively. 

 

He tilts his head, grinning at her rattled expression. “You won’t understand till I do.”

 

“You’re not going to ever, and I mean  _ ever  _ put anything in there!” She crosses her arms. “ **_Ever_ ** .” She adds again as he shrugs at her. 

 

“Sure Doll. Whatever helps you orgasm at night.” At her look his eyes glint mischievously. “As fun as it is to play with you, let’s get down to business.”

 

Finally, something she can handle. 

 

“What exactly am I supposed to be helping with?” She asks, following behind him as they exit the living room and head into what she’s taken to calling the Throne room for obvious reasons. 

 

Zsasz tosses himself on the seat and pats his lap teasingly. She huffs and stubbornly plops herself down on the floor next to him instead. 

 

“Ooh someone’s upset with me.” He reaches down and tugs her hair, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m testing your skills.”

 

“A test of skill?” She swallows nervously. Zsasz’s eyes follow the movement and the grip on her hair flexes.

 

“You’re observant. You proved that with your first mission. The thing with Atwood showed me that maybe you wouldn’t handle killing as well as the others.” 

 

The failure stings like a wound and she knows she’s pulling a face at the mention but she can’t help it. Sometimes, when she’s doing things, she’ll think of him, of the blood splattering on her and she starts to doubt her choice all over again. 

 

“Not to worry, Doll. Not all of the girls do hits like that. Josie does shakedowns and body guarding mostly. She’s been needing a partner anyways.” He gently tugs a strand of her hair and she glances up.

 

The angle is a little awkward, and the longer she stays like this the more her neck protests but it makes him look every bit the ruler he is. She wonders why he never bothered overtaking Falcone himself. He’s got everything he needs at his fingertips to do it. The girls are loyal to him and him alone. 

 

She lets the question remain quiet as Katja’s voice sounds over the speaker. 

 

“Your 4:45 appointment has arrived Mr.Zsasz.”

 

“Alright Doll, here are the rules. You listen, if you think I’m missing something or if you see something suspicious, clip a nail.” He stretches his fingers out for her and she grasps it.

 

“If I run out of fingers?” She asks, eyering the tools at her disposal. Clear nail polish, nail files, and the clippers. 

 

“You’ll come up with something, I’m sure.” He presses a button on his throne. “Let them in, Katja.”

 

She nods, shifting to sit on her knees in between Zsasz’s legs. The door opens and already she can feel attention on her. Stubbornly, she refuses to look at them, ignoring the comments that are made on her appearance. The things they say are so disgustingly sexual she can’t help but crawl closer to Zsasz, growing nervous as one of them ventures as far as to ask to borrow her.

 

 Zsasz sets a hand on the back of her neck as she starts to shake. “Oh she’s not for rent. She’s just new.” And before she can feel the slightest bit thankful for that he goes and ruins it. “Got a little uppity with me, didn’t you kitten?”

 

Looking up she smiles sweetly while jabbing the sharp stick of the nail clipper under his nail. He raises a brow.

 

“Apparently I still have to work the kinks out.” Amusement colors his tone as he waves at the men with his other hand. “Now, business.”

 

The men shift nervously and eventually one is shoved forward. His eyes fall to her and she glares when he stares a little too hard at her thighs. 

 

Zsasz snaps his fingers and the man jumps. 

 

“Sorry Zsasz. Won’t happen again.” The man grunts.

 

“Focus. I want to know what happened to Falcone’s drugs.”

 

The man with slicked back hair and mismatched socks shifts nervously. “We delivered them to the distributors. You can ask any of them, they definitely got product.” 

 

She hums quietly, carefully and painstakingly slowly clipping a nail. There was a strange inflection in his voice and he glanced quickly up and to the right when he said that.

 

After a moment, Zsasz nods. “So they definitely got product.” He repeats.

 

Slicked hair- ringleader apparently- agrees, nodding his head a little too aggressively. Sweat beads start to shine in the light as she watches them from the corner of her eye. Nervous. But that could be excused by the fact that Zsasz is someone most people are made nervous by.

 

“Yes. Right Abraham?” 

 

The other one, with a snake tattoo on his neck, agrees. He looks much more at ease than the ringleader and the quiet one. The quiet one keeps drawing her attention and she tilts her head. He meets her gaze and she flutters her eyelashes to hide the scrutinizing gaze. The man is having none of it and he quickly moves so his body is blocked from her sight by Abraham. 

 

She clips another nail. 

 

“Alright so then the distributors...distribute and somehow...the drug is either contaminated or goes bad and suddenly doesn't work? That’s what you told one of my girls when she went to check up on you, am I correct?” 

 

A flash of movement from behind Abraham jumps out at her and she slowly clips a nail pointedly. Her angles her body, stretching out a leg to point in the direction of the quiet one. 

 

Zsasz notices. “You.” He points.

 

Abraham gulps and points to himself.    
  


“Not you, move.  **_You_ ** .” The quiet one freezes, looking nervously at Ringleader and Abraham. “What’s your name.”   
  


The man gulps. “Nolan...It’s Nolan, sir.”

 

Zsasz hums. “Do you have kids, Nolan? A wife? Girlfriend?”

 

Nolan hesitates, eyes darting to his friends. “I-I don’t, sir. No wife, girlfriend or kids.”

 

She clips a nail, even though, somehow, she feels that she doesn’t have to point out the obvious lie. 

 

Zsasz raises a brow, reaching with the hand not in my grasp to rub at his face. “Funny, coulda sworn I saw you leaving Mooney’s place last night with a woman on your arm. Walked her all the way home too.”

 

Slowly, horror and anger dawn on Nolan’s face. For a moment, his hand flexes, hand jerking towards his waistband and she’s quick to clip a nail. Four now. 

 

“Hands where I can see them, Nolan. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to Leah now would you?” He holds up a finger and the phone begins to ring as if on cue. Zsasz smiles as he picks up the call. “Hello?” Then, he holds it out to Nolan. “It’s for you.” 

 

Nolan takes a calming breath before he snatches the phone out of Zsasz’s hands.

 

“Speaker.”

 

Glowering, Nolan presses the button. “Hello?”

 

“Sweetie? Hi, there’s a lady here telling me you’re going to be late for the doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?”

 

Ringleader curses, hand ruining his pristine hair as he drags it through the slicked locks. 

 

“Hon, it’s true. I’m going to be a little late but don’t worry. I’ll be there. Boss just wanted to go over some delivery problems.”

 

She watches all of this with intense curiosity. It’s like watching a card tower crumble because the next line is what really cements it. 

 

“We’re supposed to be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat you know, I’ll never forgive you if you miss it.”

 

“Nolan-” Abraham begins. 

 

Zsasz snaps at him, mouthing the words shut up at him, then much louder, he interjects; “Hey, Nolan. Take a look at these.”

 

Nolan’s face pinches as he shakily says goodbye, eyes watering as Leah tells him she loves him. Then he hangs up and hands the phone over.

 

Zsasz lets the silence stew for a couple of minutes as he plays with the phone in his grip. She carefully files down the remaining three nails to be the same length as the others before passing a quick swipe of clear gel. 

 

She’d be lying if she wasn’t in awe over how smoothly that had all gone down. There hadn’t even been a clear threat made but Nolan had gotten the message loud and clear. Even now, his face pressed into his hands it’s obvious that he is ready to confess the truth and his two partners are practically crushed under the weight of what will come next. 

 

She lets go of his left hand, reaching up and carefully removing the phone from Zsasz’s grip, switching. In his eyes, she can see that he’s exactly in his element. He’s enjoying this, enjoying the smell of fear growing in the room. This is who Zsasz is too. This is who Zsasz was to her when she met him. A man in power, in control, a man you beg to.

 

She angles her head to stare down Nolan, waiting. 

 

Finally, he speaks, voice breaking. “The product we gave them was fake.”

 

Ringleader, with panicked eyes, starts shouting. “You gave them fake product! You and Abraham? How could you? You  **_lied_ ** to me???” 

 

He drops to his knees, crawling until he’s inches away from her as Abraham and Nolan curse at him. His hands fly to her legs and he grasps at her, begging her. Fear gripping her she snaps a leg up, trying and failing to kick him off. 

 

“Please, you can tell right? I had no idea-”

 

She doesn’t see Zsasz move. One moment, there are hands clawing at her and the next the look of desperation on Ringleader's face is being replaced by emptiness. His body slumps into the ground, the hilt of the knife glinting in the light. She swallows, forcing her face to look impassive as she kicks his body away from her.

 

“Anyone else feeling like lying to me?” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as fun a punishment as it could have been but maybe the next chapter could? Unless you guys wanna jump right to what Eva had planned?


	22. Chapter 22

Her hands are shaking. 

No one steps forward. 

 

The more time passes the queasier she grows until eventually she feels like she’s seconds away from passing out. The body is  _ right _ there and she can’t bear to look at it. Someone died. Again. 

 

How does one get used to this?

 

Who can she talk to about this?

 

Chest tightening she fights to ground herself. She will not fail Zsasz. She will not embarrass herself. So she sticks her eyes to the wall in front of her and begins to name poisonous plants. 

 

_ Foxglove.  _

 

_ Hemlock. _

 

_ Poison Oak. _

 

“Someone better start talking right now.” 

 

_ Poinsettia. _

 

_ Jimson Weed. _

 

A click of a gun.

 

  She swallows. 

 

Abraham shoves Nolan forward.

 

“Good choice. Doll, go fetch something to write with.” 

 

She jumps up, eager to have a task she can focus on. She doesn’t even think twice about flashing any of the men in her outfit.

 

“Third drawer to the left.”

 

His office is like a blanket of safety and she wishes she could stay here instead of going back out there. But she’s working right now. And so she rushes to complete the task, feeling like she’s freezing despite the sweat coating her body. She knows there’s no room to be shy or reluctant to follow orders. Zsasz’s anger is like a vortex, dragging in all the breath from her lungs. 

 

The first pen she spots slips out of her hand three times before she finally just picks a different one. She tucks it behind her ear before shoving open the drawer he’d indicated. She feels like she’s breathing too loudly as she rustles through the piles of paper on his desk. 

 

“Notepad. Notepad. Where are you?” She hisses as her finger slices against a sheet of paper, blood welling up. 

 

It glares at her, scarlet drops welling up. She swallows, growing dizzy. She keeps feeling the man’s hands grow slack on her. Keeps seeing his eyes grow blank. Keeps hearing the choked gasp that left his mouth shortly after.

 

Panicked, she grabs the entire stack of papers and tosses it on top of the mess on the desk. She’s taking too long. She’s taking too long and Zsasz is going to get mad and he’s going to-

 

She spots the notepad. 

 

Her shoulders sag in relief as she snatches it up, clutching it to her chest.“Just breath. You got this.” She whispers, thumbing the leather cover. She wipes the nervous tears from her eyes, glancing at the mirror of his liquor cabinet. 

 

She looks as composed as she can be considering someone had been stabbed in front of her. Wide eyes, pale almost grey skin. She chews her cheek before grabbing the pitcher and serving herself a quick drink of water. She can’t do much for the state of her skin but the icy liquid does wonders to calm her. She takes a deep breath. 

 

“You’re a Zsaszette. Act like it.” She mumbles, squaring her shoulders.

 

The atmosphere outside the office is just as tense as it was when she left it. Carefully she walks to stand just behind and to the right of Zsasz and his throne, using it to shield her shaking as well as hide the body from her view. It kept drawing her eyes, try as she might, like a black hole and from here she could just barely see his slumped over form.

 

She swallows dryly. 

 

“Names.”

 

She scrambles to click the pen and flips to a page as the words start flowing from Nolan’s mouth. She barely has time to think beyond writing and when she’s done she realizes the shaking stopped. Pretty loopy cursive glares up at her from the page accusing her for being so calm. She shakes her head, shoving down the onslaught of mixed emotions and steps up to show Zsasz the list. 

 

His flared nostrils and pinched expression are the only outward signs of fury and she stays so still she hardly breaths. It’s a left over tactic from her childhood, before her abuse became a focal point of her home life, and she reminds herself to breath as her lungs tighten painfully.

 

“If it were up to me I’d shoot you right now.” He announces just as his phone begins to ring. “Fortunately for you, it’s up to Falcone.” He snaps the phone out, not even bothering with pleasantries as he relays the situation. 

 

She wonders if Falcone had telepathic powers because how else would he know the exact moment to call for dramatic purposes? A question for another day, surely. 

 

Nolan and Abraham look as pale as the marble and she eyes their frightened forms. Part of her hopes Nolan gets to go home, if only because of his pregnant wife. But the longer the phone call goes on the more she thinks that it’s not an option. 

 

Guiltily she turns her eyes to the notepad. Thirteen names stare up at her and she frowns. Most of them make sense, considering the plan had been to sell the real product and make extra money. Club owners and dealers mostly but one name stuck out to her like a flower among weeds. 

 

Daniel Reeds. 

 

Why did that name sound so familiar?

 

She frowns, thinking back to where the name sounded familiar. Reeds….Reeds...Her eyes light up. Officer Reeds! 

 

Damn, fate just has a way of connecting things.

 

She immediately conjures his image in her head, down to the annoying not-mustache he had sported. 

 

Just one question remains...why was Officer Reeds involved with a bunch of Falcone’s men, if they could even be called that anymore. 

 

Could this be more than just a failed attempt of doubling profit? 

 

Shuffling foot to foot she waits anxiously for Zsasz to finish his call. He shoots her a look, going so far as to reach over and smack her thigh gently. She narrows her eyes as he mouths for her to ‘quit it.’ 

 

She does her best to still but then the phone call starts to drag on again and she becomes anxious about her conclusion all over again. So the second Zsasz hangs up she leans down, whispering into his ear. “Daniel Reeds is a police officer. The only one on the list.”

 

He angles his head to her, raising a brow. 

 

Licking her lips she pushes to explain the thought that had popped into her head. “Could just be a way to cover their asses in case someone gets caught but I heard he wasn’t in Falcone’s pocket, officially.” She hesitates for a moment before deciding she needed to sound credible otherwise she’s just throwing out accusations. “He busted me once for running away. Took a phone call while dealing with me and said the name of one of Maroni’s high profile men.”

 

Zsasz nods at her before waving her away. She steps back, tugging the skirt down as Zsasz stares at the men. The only sound in the room is of the clock on the wall and she does her best to not fidget as the men shoot her nervous glances like she’s got any say in what’s going to happen.

 

Zsasz smacks his palms together and she barely evades the urge to flinch. The men are however not as quick, both jumping in response to the sudden noise. 

 

“It’s your lucky day. You can go.”

 

She blinks in surprise. There’s absolutely no way Falcone was just going to let this slide. What kind of example does that set for others? Especially if Maroni is involved. 

 

Abraham’s eyes widen as Nolan immediately jumps into a tirade of ‘thank you’s’. 

  
“Seriously?”   
  


Zsasz shrugs. “Yeah, boss said you can go...so...go.”

 

They both turn, rushing for the door. They don’t even see the gun. 

 

She manages to shut her eyes seconds before he shoots it off but it’s useless because she can still picture the moment the bullets hit.

 

She inhales deeply.

 

This is just business. 

 

Zsasz gets up.

 

“You really didnt think you’d get away without punishment do you?” 

 

A loud groan. 

 

She keeps her eyes firmly closed. She doesn’t want to look. She doesn’t want to see anyone else in her nightmares. 

 

“You and I are going to have an amazing time in the Playroom, Nolan.”

 

She swallows thickly as the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room. Her stomach turns and she decides she really doesn’t want to go inside the Playroom.  _ Ever.  _

 

A harsh breath and a curse. “I just got these floors waxed.”   
  


She bites her lip nervously, opening her eyes. She keeps them fixed on Zsasz’s face, refusing to glance at the bodies on the floor. His face is splattered with blood. 

 

He meets her gaze. “You did good, Doll.”

 

She nods shakily.

 

She did good.

 

* * *

  
  


Zsasz killed Abraham. 

 

That's two now. 

 

“Um...you missed a spot.” She mumbles as she points at the speck of blood on Zsasz’s cheek.

 

He looked at her, raising a brow as he shut the phone. “Where?”

 

She points it out again but grows increasingly more frustrated as he misses it. “Give me.” She snatches the cloth from him. She rubs, probably too vigorously, at the red stain on his face, frowning. 

 

“Not that this isn’t an amazing view but I think you got it.” 

 

She glances down finding that her position has placed her chest in his direct line of sight. She moves so fast she bangs her elbow on the edge of the desk and she covers up the groan of pain with a cough. 

 

“Nearly scrubbed the first layer of skin off.” He side eyes her as he crosses another name off the list. 

 

“You waited until it was dry. I have to scrub.” She wraps her arms around herself, growing self conscious as the list dwindles down to the last name. 

 

She isn’t sure what else he had in mind for her time and she grew more and more ansty as it got closer to eight o’clock. She really didn’t want to miss whatever Eva had planned. 

 

“You’re being very distracting right now.”

She flinches, biting her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Why are you moving like you’ve got something up your skirt?”

 

She considers for a moment a lie. Perhaps something about being cold considering it was plausible enough. She was always a little cold and right now she was barely wearing anything. But the longer Zsasz eyes her the more it becomes clear that he’d point it out quickly enough. No, lying wouldn’t be very smart right now. Especially since he still seemed to be struggling to remain calm.

 

 “Eva invited me out tonight.”

 

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair to consider her. “Where to?”

 

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. I just know she wanted us to go out at eight.” 

 

Zsasz tilts his head.

 

“Of course, if you need me she’d understand. On the clock 24/7 right?” She straightens her back, offering him a nervous smile. She didnt want to appear lazy or bored. Even if she still felt like she needed a moment to wrangle her chaotic emotions back under control. 

 

Maybe she could ask Eva how she handled everything, religious as she is. 

 

“Eva huh ...she's not much for causing trouble.” Zsasz places the phone down, bringing a hand up to stroke his chin as he considers her. Then a slow grin takes up his expression. Her heart skips a beat at the sight of it.“If you kiss me I’ll let you go.”

 

Mouth dropping slightly she automatically takes a nervous step back. “Kiss you?”

 

His grin widens as he leans back in his chair, legs spreading. “That’s what I said.” He licks his lips, gesturing for her to come closer with a crook of his finger. “Don’t tell me kissing me still makes you nervous?”

 

In a sudden burst of honesty, the words slip out. “You make me nervous even when I’m not kissing you.” Blushing, she brings a hand up to cover her mouth.

 

His eyes light up. “Do I now?”

 

She glances to the side, squirming under his gaze. “I’d have to be emotionless to not be nervous. You’re very...intense.”

 

“Is that all I am?”

It’s clear he’s enjoying this. The only thing bigger than Zsasz’s ego is his desire to kill and she’d rather not reveal any more information regarding her thoughts on him. Their relationship (if it could even be referred to as such) was complicated enough as it is. No need to tell him how he made her stomach flutter or how thanks to him she had discovered porn. 

 

She strode up to him, rounding the desk to loom above him. “One kiss?”

 

He tilts his head back and yet, despite the fact that she’s above him it’s entirely clear who’s in charge of what’s happening. 

 

“Just one kiss.”

 

She grabs his face first, closing her eyes perhaps a little too soon because when her lips first touch him it’s the corner of his mouth. A shaky inhale. She knows it will not count so she tries again. He’s warm and her entire body shudders as his tongue snakes out to touch her. She whimpers, pressing closer. 

 

His hands reaches out, grasping at her thighs and he hauls her into his lap before she can pull away. She quickly becomes overwhelmed by him. His smell envelopes her, drowning her senses and including her judgement. 

 

One kiss quickly becomes two, then three and then so many more she can no longer think beyond his roaming touch and his searing kiss. It’s like he’s pouring out all his frustration and anger into the kiss and all she can do is sit there and take it. 

 

She whimpers out his name, body growing slick as he nips at her. He moves from her mouth and she inhales sharply as she suddenly has the space to breath. He licks at her neck, trailing down to her collarbone where he settles. With every bite and suck a tingle shoots straight down to her core and its her obscenely loud moan that jars her out of the situation. 

 

She jumps away from him, nearly tripping her haste as she pats herself down. Her entire body feels like it’s burning and he regards her with the smirk of someone how got away with something. 

 

“One kiss.” She replies, tugging her skirt. 

 

He nods. “One kiss.” He repeats, even though it had been so much more than that. “You’re dismissed.”

 

She nods, turning to rush out of the room before he notices the glistening of her excitement on her thighs. She doesn’t know what she would say if he pointed it out. 

 

“Doll.”

 

She freezes, hand on the door handle. She was almost free. 

 

“No alcohol.”

 

She doesn’t sigh in relief. That would be too obvious. 

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Good girl.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay before any of you kill me I just wanna apologize. I was in the middle of moving this last month and trying to get everything set up for when I go to university. I promise that even though I will now have a job and classes to take I will try and update every two weeks and if not that then at least the bare minimum of once a month. I have big plans for this fanfic and I don't want to put it up on hiatus or abandon it and I promise that I won't. I'm also sorry this is a short chapter but I want to get the ball rolling on drama that's about to occur that doesn't necessarily involve Zsasz trying to hook up with his Doll.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support and patience!


	23. Chapter 23

“Eva what exactly are we doing here?”

 

The empty warehouse looks like the exact opposite of a place you’d want to meet a drug dealer in, let alone a boyfriend. She can hear the squeaking of rats and does her best to quell the disgust rising in her. She hasn’t even spotted Tobi yet, and she’s not exactly hard to miss. 

 

Eva shushes her, dragging her down into a crouch against the brick wall. The rough texture of it reminds her that this is nothing something she should be doing. It’s an invasion of privacy.

 

“Tobi has been coming here for a month.” Eva narrows her eyes before grinning broadly. “Look! There she is.”

 

She follows the pointed finger and sure enough, Tobi is there. She’s dressed in a hoodie and black jeans. Tobi got shot once and even then she stuck to her elaborate styles. This is weird. 

 

“Which one is the boy?” She whispers, narrowing her eyes. Part of her has already decided that no boy is worth the attention of her friend, especially if they’re distracting her from her missions. 

 

Eva gestures to the short one in the group. She tilts her head. He’s got blue hair and a kind smile. He tugs at Tobi, dragging her around the fire pits as she begrudgingly lets him. Several people cheer at his arrival and he’s quick to show her off.

 

She can’t decide whether that’s a good or bad thing. Part of finds it slightly charming how animated he is, gesturing at Tobi. The other part of her feels her annoyance rise. Tobi hates being lead anywhere, let alone dragged like some dog. 

 

Just as she’s gotten angry enough to do something Eva jumps up  suddenly marching towards Tobi. She scrambles up after her, nervously tugging at her scarf. She was thinking something quieter, more discrete. Like kidnapping and interrogating him as soon as Tobi left. 

 

Kidnap? 

 

Interrogate?

 

Frowning, she pauses just outside the circle of people. Her stomach tightens and twists into knots. 

 

Who was she becoming? 

 

“Why hello!” Eva chirps, placing her hands next to the fire casually. 

 

Tobi does a double take, amused expression fading into a scowl as she takes in the two of them. She raises her hand in a small wave, giving her a sheepish smile. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Tobi hisses. 

 

She keeps her mouth shut, letting Eva take the lead as she grows more and more nervous about their actions. She’s sure that they’ve broken some kind of friend rule. Friends don’t stalk friends and their potentially not good enough boyfriends. She may not have any friends growing up but it feels like common sense. 

 

Before Eva can reply, the boy steps forward. “Are you friends with Tobi?” His eyes light up in curiosity and he even extends a hand for them to shake. 

 

Screwing up her nose she reaches out hesitantly. Eva looks downright terrifying with the way she’s staring down the boy. 

 

“Tyler.” She barks and he flinches, stepping away. Then she turns her glare onto them. “You followed me?” She asks, eyes burning.

 

Swallowing down the lump in her throat she steps back, trying to deflect attention off of her. . She doesn’t want to make Tobi angry at her. Tobi is her friend. 

 

“We were worried.” She whispers, voice hoarse with emotions. 

 

Tobi huffs. “I can take care of myself.”

 

Eva narrows her eyes. “Not always.”

 

Instinctively, Tobi reaches up, touching the old wound. Tobi clenches her jaw at Eva’s words, eyes turning cold. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again.”

 

Eva and Tobi lock themselves in a glaring match. She chews her lip as she watches, feeling the tension rise. Awkwardly, she steps back until she’s just out of Tobi’s line of sight. The boy, Tyler, shuffled over to her, quietly. 

 

“How do you know Tobi?” He asks quietly, curiosity evident in his tone.

 

She mulls over the several possible responses she could give before settling on something that seemed innocent enough. “She and I shop at the same store.” 

 

Tyler arches a brow, eyeing her and Eva. “You followed your shopping buddy?”

 

Blanking on an answer she’s quick to turn it around on him. “How do **you** know her?”

 

It’s clear that he’s not as suspicious or persistent as Tobi because he doesn’t seem bothered with her changing the subject. In fact, it’s like he’s already forgotten how weird her response was because he gives her a blinding smile. He’s as trusting as a child. Concerning and too much of a reminder for how her brother used to be. Her heart sinks at the thought and she gives him a small smile, trying to encourage him to answer. 

 

“Oh. She’s my half sister.”

 

Eyes wide she does a double take. “Your what?!”  The exclamation leaves her mouth before she can stop it and she flinches at the echo. Both Eva and Tobi turn to her. 

 

“Tyler!” Tobi admonishes. 

 

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He has dimples. “Sorry Tobs, I didn’t realize she wasn’t allowed to know that.”

 

Eva frowns. “I-we thought...you were sneaking with boy because of love.”

 

Tobi scrunches up her face. “God no. I’m not interested in boys whatsoever. And it’s ‘sneaking off with a boy’.”

Eva considers the statement and correction for a moment before nodding. 

 

She can’t help but ask. “Does Zs-....um, he know?” She trips over the name as she catches Tobi’s wide eyes. 

 

“No. No one knows. Or at least, no one knew until now. I hope this stays between us.” Tobi looks uncharacteristically anxious, begging gaze trained on them. Already, she’s nodding before she realizes Eva is silent. 

 

She turns eyeing her. It’s weird and too surprising that Eva doesn’t immediately agree. They’re supposed to be friends. Friends should be trusted with important secrets. Frowning, she reaches her hand forward, pinkie out. 

 

“I promise I won’t tell.” She nudges Eva, when she continues to remain silent.  

 

Eva sighs. 

 

“I do not like hiding things from him but...you are our friend. I promise.” 

 

Tobi stares at them for a moment, analyzing the sincerity in their voices and faces before nodding. She shakes pinkies with her before allowing Eva to hug her. After a moment of staring, she moves to join them. 

 

“You two are a bunch of idiots. Get off.” She clears her throat after her moment, shoving the both of them away. But the firelight catches the glassy look of her eyes and gives her away completely. 

 

She smiles and gently punches Tobi’s arm.

 

“You’re the one who chooses to hang out with us. Wouldn’t that make you an idiot too?”

 

Tobi huffs, rolling her eyes. “Not like I have a choice.”

 

She shakes her head. “Come on Eva, we have-” she catches Tyler’s gaze, “shopping to do.” She finishes lamely. 

 

Tyler eyes the exchange with inquisitive eyes. 

 

She’s already moving to leave when Tobi calls her name. She turns, arching a brow.

 

“Would...would you like to meet the rest of them...these are my friends from…”

 

“From before?” She asks.

 

Tobi nods, eyes softening. 

 

Heart warming she steps forward. “I would love to.”

 

* * *

 

Tobi's friends had seemed nice enough. All of them genuinely cared about her. It was a little strange to see her like that, admittedly. Her brother teased her constantly, poking fun at her for quitting to "become a stripper before he could." At her raised eyebrow Tobi had simply mouthed at her to go along. She chose to go ahead and come out and say she and Tobi were co-workers, to make her stalking seem a little less weird. 

 

All in all, it had been a fun night. Even if they had to all take off and run away when the cops showed up. 

 

She shakes her head, rubbing her head having knocked it into a fence on her way over it while pushing her door open. 

 

Well damn. 

 

She forgot her phone again. 

 

She realizes this as soon as she spots it on her bed. It stares at her accusingly and she flinches. She hopes Zsasz hadn’t tried to call her while she was gone. She isn’t sure she could take another punishment. 

 

She grabs her phone opening it up, startled to find that she has several missed messages and calls.

 

She starts with the messages. 

 

They’re all from before she had gotten back, when she had been missing. 

 

_ ‘Come back.’ _

 

_ ‘Where are you?’ _

 

_ ‘We need to talk.’ _

 

_ ‘Fine.’ _

 

She frowns. That must have been the night she had gone out drinking with Zsasz. It’s still too embarrassing to think of it and she’s banished the night to the deepest corners of her mind. To think she had made such a big deal out of Zsasz trying to be chivalrous. Any other man would have taken advantage of her. 

 

Chewing her cheek she clicks on Tobi’s message. 

 

_ ‘Zsasz is losing his fucking mind. Where are you?’ _

 

It’s the only message from her. It’s about thirteen hours after Zsasz’s last text message. Curious. 

 

_ ‘If he did something I’ll break him.’  _

 

Eva. 

 

Smiling she shakes her head. Most of the messages run the same course of questions until she assumes, her phone had been discovered. She moves on to the voicemails, starting from the oldest.

 

A sharp breath is the first thing she hears.

 

She knows it’s him. Can picture the way he scowled before running through his choices. 

 

_ “Doll. I need you to pick up. This isn’t a good part of town. Let me take you home.” _

 

 The concern in it did something to her. Her finger hovers over the buttons for a moment. Heart clenching, she decides not to delete it. 

 

Next.

 

_ “When I find you I am going to show you exactly why people don’t run from me. You better pick up soon Doll. It’s been two days.”  _

 

She was sick by then. Too sick to get to a phone down on the street. She clicks on the next one. 

 

_ “Hey! Come on, you gotta come home sometime. We can figure out what happened together. He’s doing hits again.”  _

 

Josie. Last hit he took was for Gordon. And that apparently got canceled too. He doesn’t normally do them anymore, not interesting enough. He prefers the torture, the breaking off people. That and he’s busy helping Falcone or running his parent’s company most days. The piles of paperwork she’s seen is his office are more than enough evidence for it. 

 

She frowns. 

 

What had gone down in the time she had gone? Everyone had avoided describing anything from then in major detail. Any time she thought she was getting somewhere with one of the girls they changed the subject. 

 

_ “It’s Tatiana. Tell me where you are. We cannot let this continue. He’s being reckless.”  _

 

She raises an eyebrow. She hadn’t given her number to Tatiana. 

 

_ “Look, I don’t say this often. But please...please pick up.” _

 

She inhales shakily. Zsasz again. There’s an edge to his tone of voice that she cannot place. 

 

_ “I’m coming for you.” _

 

Chills run down her spine. She had already been found but she found herself wondering how things would have gone down if she hadn’t fallen sick. Blushing she recalls the motel room and her breast aches in reminder. She still has a faint bruise and she’s not sure what she’s going to do when it fades. 

 

She could ask for another. 

 

Cheeks burning, she clicks the next message. 

 

_ “I...there’s no easy way to say this..” _

 

Frowning, she sits up. This voice….

 

_ “He hasn’t been home in several days and at first we thought he was at that girl’s but…” _

 

She lurches up, breath coming up short as her room begins to spin.  

 

_ “Your brother is missing.” _

 

The phone begins to slip out of her hand, she barely hears their parting words. 

 

_ “We are so sorry.” _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me in the comments. I have cried like every day this past month. Life as an adult sucks. Another short chapter I'm afraid but it felt like a good spot to stop. Things will happen soon.


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